


Maybe This Time

by Scarletb123



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-11-28 21:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarletb123/pseuds/Scarletb123
Summary: A lot has changed for Oliver and Elio in five years. Their magical summer together now just a faded memory as they struggle to find happiness and love. An unexpected encounter in a familiar place leads them once again into the world of passion and friendship they thought they'd left behind. With much more to lose now, will Oliver risk everything to be with the only person he could ever truly love? Will Elio let his guard down and take the chance of reliving the heartache he barely survived the first time he let Oliver in?





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

The room was dark but for the glare of the projector's light bouncing off the large screen that tilted slightly askew to the right in front of them. He couldn't help but notice his head tilted in the same direction as he winced through the bright light to make out the dull pictures of Monet's Impression Sunrise and Dedas' The Ballet Class that popped on the screen from the professor's old and outdated slides. He knew better equipment and modern technology was afforded to all the staff at this prestigious institute, as well as it's upper-class pupils. It didn't surprise him, however, that this professor chose to pass on the simplicity of an enhanced 3D version of the same paintings on the computer screens that were built right into the tables the students were sitting at. Professor Benjamin Holton felt all things computerized were too impersonal and untouchable. He proclaimed that all feeling, and humanity were zapped away with each pixel and byte, leaving nothing but a hollow image of what at one time held someone's very soul, someone's purpose, someone's gift. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, stretching out the kink the tilted screen had left lodged deep in the bones. Professor Holton rambled on for a few minutes more about the root of Impressionism before finally flicking the lights on and declaring class dismissed. He fiddled with his backpack for a moment, giving the other students ample time to clear the room. He headed to the front of the class where the professor stood reading some papers that rested on the podium. 

"Your unabashed love for Monet is both beautiful and heartbreaking." He said with a concerned tone. "Monet himself could never capture the true heroic tragedy that lies within your heart." 

Professor Holton peered up from his reading. "Heroic tragedy? Why would my admiration for a mere artist be either heroic or tragic? We all have idols, living or dead. We gravitate towards those we feel have the most to teach us. So, unless your idol is Charles Manson, there is very little negative to learn. Who's your idol, Elio? Perhaps Bach or Liszt?" 

He sat on the table a few feet from the podium, dangling his feet as he gave it some thought. "Let me explain the heroic tragedy to you. Then you will understand why I choose not to idolize anyone, dead or alive." 

Holton sighed, hesitant to let him continue. He knew full well that by the end of the conversation Elio would have him embroiled in a debate over something he had no idea was even debatable. Elio had a way of making everything seem right even as he pointed out everything wrong. He would always gently nudge his debater towards the contradiction, and then methodically pick it apart. They weren’t remotely aware they were caught in his web of confusion and had fallen victim to his apparent intentional distraction. "You have five minutes." He glanced as his watch. "I've got a meeting over at Berming Hall. Walk with me." 

Elio followed in toe, having to walk fast to keep up the pace. "You see." He began. "Your idolization of Monet is heroic because, as we both know, Monet is by far not the best Impressionist of his time. Scholars around the globe would agree, and despite your argument that they don't fully understand the true Impressionist movement..." 

Holton grinned to himself. Elio's nudge had come early in this conversation. He must really be feeling the time crunch. 

"...You must admit that not all could be so off base. Even with the evidence staring you in the face you continue to sing his praises like a loyal servant. That, my friend, is idolism in its purest form, a heroic stance blinded by truth...A love without merit or gain." 

Holton stopped dead in his tracks. "For Christ sake, Elio! I admire the man's work. I'm not in love and ready to spend the rest of my life bowing at his dead feet. You make it sound like I'm hung up on an abusive lover and I'm beyond saving. A bit dramatic even for you. I don't have time for this." He continued walking. 

"Ahhh..." Elio cooed. "But that's where the tragedy plays out. You, yourself said that we gravitate towards idols we feel we can learn from. When put in the right perspective, all you have learned from Monet that you admittedly could not have learned from more knowledgeable Impressionists, is that you hide from truth to protect what you believe to be even more important than reality. False worship." 

They stopped just outside the doors to Berming Hall. Holton leered at Elio for a moment before both let out a quiet laugh. "Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?" He shook his head in disbelief. "That's five minutes of my life I'll never get back. Five minutes of listening to the most idiotic blabber I've ever heard. I have to say you were doing pretty good until you threw the love crap in to the mix...and even then, I wondered if maybe I wasn't hard for the dead Impressionist after all." 

Elio's grin widened as he moved in closer, whispering. "Tell me the truth, Ben. You've gotten off on a picture of Monet more than once or twice in your life. Haven't you?" 

Ben backed away, nervously looking to make sure nobody had noticed their closeness. "You have to be more careful here at the school, Elio." He said anxiously. "We've talked about that." 

Elio shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the older man's paranoia. "Nobody cares, Ben. It's not against the rules and everyone already knows you're gay. I don't know why you're so uptight about this." 

"First..." Ben explained. "It's not against the rules, but it is frowned upon. And second, not everyone knows I'm gay. I told you Elio, if you can't be discrete about this we have to end it. I can't figure out why you're even with me to begin with." 

Elio looked knowingly at the man before him. He knew why. He knew exactly what it was about this particular man that made him instantly throw himself at him the moment they met five months ago. It was the same 'why' that compelled him to walk across the crowded dance floor in Miami. The same 'why' that made him jump off the bus in a small town in Ohio. The 'why' was always the same with each man he chose. They fit the profile. Tall. Blonde. Intelligent. Older. 

"I'm with you because you're fun and intelligent and have a rockin' body for a thirty-eight-year-old." Elio smile. He wasn't lying, just embellishing a bit. His tall stature and solid frame was indeed very fit. His wavy blonde hair fell just the right length, and his strong jawline accentuated an already perfect smile. But the true 'why' was staring at him with the desire that he longed for. The blue eyes were a must. Without the blue eyes there was no point. Try as he may he could never find the exact eyes, but at least blue could give him the illusion he needed. "I promise to be more careful." He ceded. "But tonight, when I get you alone, I don't plan on being at all discrete." He smirked as he walked away. "I might even let you call me Monet."


	2. Chapter 2

  _Elio' He could hear being whispered in the dark. 'Elio! Elio!' The voice was distant but clear. 'Elio!' He reached out, trying desperately to feel what he couldn't see through the thick black haze of what had now become a faded memory. All that remained was the subtle recognition of the voice echoing in his head. Faded were the images of the vibrant young man who had called him by that name so many times before. So many years ago. He longed to dream of him again, but the only remnant of that summer now left was the distant voice in the dark. Beckoning him. Calling for him to somehow find him and join him in some mythical realm where hearts can never break. A place where trains never leave the station and lovers never say goodbye. 'Elio! Elio!'_

"Oliver, wake up. It's getting late." He woke from his dream. "We have to finish packing and be at my father's in two hours. You know how he is. He'll cancel the trip straight away if we're even a minute late. Get up and shower. I'll meet you downstairs."

He grunted his displeasure as he got out of bed. "Let him cancel. I don't want to go anyways. Why did he even volunteer me for this? I told him my knowledge of Impressionism is limited. Surely, he could have found a more suitable assistant for his friend. He has a whole trove of academics at his fingertips. Why me?"

"Because I asked him to." She replied. "We've been married for four years and we've yet to take a proper honeymoon. You promised after James was born we'd take a trip. That was two years ago, Oliver! I'm bored here every day alone when you go to work at the university. I need to get out and explore the world. We're young still, and thanks to daddy we never have to worry about money. You should quit that humdrum job, so we can travel and enjoy life...and shop. You know I love to shop." She giggled playfully as she opened the door to leave. "Personally, I can't wait to get to Milan. I hear the shopping there is fabulous."

He wasn't sure which part of what she said offended him most. The fact that she told her father to book the trip without consulting him, or the fact that she considered his position as Senior Professor of Literature nothing more than a 'humdrum job'. Granted, his position was accelerated after marrying the headmaster's daughter, but he had worked hard to make sure everyone knew he could have just as easily been awarded the position on merit rather than on nepotism.

He first met Elizabeth Bradford when he was a student at the very university he now worked. She was a beautiful girl. The kind often seen on the cover of magazines. Her wealth made it easy for her to present herself as if she were a princess. An heir to a thrown that ruled higher and mightier than any other. To say she was pretentious would be a gross understatement. She fiercely went after the things she wanted. When he became one of those things, she was relentless. They dated for a while, and but for a brief moment in time when his world took a detour somewhere in Northern Italy, they were destined together. Despite their differences it worked. It wasn't the mad love found in the romantic movies, but it was a mutual understanding that mad love was not what they wanted or needed in this life.

After James was born he could tell the sacrifice she'd made to attempt the simple life they were living was weighing on her. The princess was caged, and her rule no longer loomed superior. He once thought it would feel somewhat satisfying to see her taken down a peg, but instead he found it sad and depressing. Perhaps because it was a reminder of his own sacrifice. She had given up the jet set world of the rich and famous. He had given up the memories of a time when happiness was right there for the taking. They had sacrificed, and neither really knew the reasons why.

He climbed in the shower, letting the warm water cascade over his face, rinsing away the desperation he'd felt earlier in his dream. Reaching for someone who no longer existed. Yearning for someone who's face was now an unrealistic blur. He closed his eyes, damned in his sacrifice. Until the sound of the only piece he still allowed himself to hold on to filled the room, bouncing off the tiles, echoing once again in its promising youth.. _.'Elio! Elio! Elio!'_


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, there are plenty of guys your own age who would give just about anything for one date with you." Angie said, sitting down next to Elio at the small picnic table outside their dormitory. "Plenty of girls as well." She added. "Explain to me again why you insist on wasting your time on a man old enough to be your father. I mean, I get that he's tall and handsome and hot as hell, but seriously Elio, you need to set your sights a little younger. Each guy you hookup with gets older than the last. It won't be long before I find out you're dating my grandfather." She looked at him sternly. "My grandfather has man-boobs Elio! Is that the kind of thing you're into? Should I arrange an introduction?"

Elio didn't blink, answering her firmly. "Do these man-boobs have a cup size? I'm not interested unless we're talking at least a C. I have standards. I don't give it up to just any dude with man-boobs." He gave her a cocky smirk. "Ah, who am I kidding. If he's over fifty I'm all his. Set us up."

Angie laughed, slapping him playfully. "You're incorrigible. Will there ever come a day you take these things seriously? Will you ever stop hooking up with guys you know you’ll never have a serious relationship with? You purposely pick the same type of guy over and over again. It's like you sabotage any shot at love before it even has a chance to begin. Are you that afraid of commitment?"

He searched his mind for a quick come-back, a witty remark to passively brush off her unwelcome lecture on romance. He detested when people so flippantly spoke of things they had no business speaking of. She talked as if she had somehow figured out what all else before her never could. She had miraculously come across a stone that, when turned, revealed a scroll that solved the mystery of love. She was the chosen one. She had the ability to heal every broken heart and connect each soul with their one true love. It almost angered him that she would pretend to have such wisdom when someone's heart was on the line. It was risky and careless, and he knew better than to trust hers, or anyone's, advice on the matter.

"What if I told you that, despite his age, Ben might actually be the one." He replied, surprising them both. "I..I mean, he's a good guy. He treats me good. He's got a good job. He's stable. He even owns his own house. Unlike most of the guys his age he's actually out of the closet for the most part...It could work."

Angie's jaw dropped. In the four years she'd known him she'd never heard him speak so candid. Getting an honest reaction out of him was like catching sight of a rare bird in an environment not known for that particular species. In all aspects it should not be there, but there it was, and she knew she best capture it before it vanished back to its rightful place.

"Is that what you want?" She asked. "Are you finally ready to have a serious relationship? Because I think that would be wonderful. He's older, yes, but if he makes you happy. You have so much in your heart to give, Elio. He's a lucky man if you choose him to love." She smiled, grabbing his hand. "When we're all in Milan you must 'declare your love for him. It would be so incredibly romantic and I'm sure he'll be so moved he'll declare his love for you as well." She squealed joyfully. "Now I really can't wait for this trip! It's going to be amazing to see the sites and to watch two lovers hold hands and hearts under the starlit sky of the city."

'Like a ton of bricks.' That's the saying he'd heard used before when describing something heavy entering the mind unexpectedly. Only it didn't feel like a ton. It felt more like the weight of an entire universe crashing through his head. It wasn't a vision. It wasn't a movie playing out in the corners of his brain. It was a feeling that happened to provide images to support its validity. A quick flash of two hands, their fingers entwined tight. The overwhelming feeling of heat coursing through his veins. The sound of music playing in the distant. The smell of cologne and scotch. It was the sense of taste that took him over the edge. He held his breath, so ready to relive that kiss that even the loud group of Freshmen yelling out the dorm windows at each other was not going to disrupt this rare déjà vu.

"Hey Yo, Elio!"Angie barked. "Where'd ya go? You blanked out on me for a minute there."

He shook his head, the feel of Oliver's arms around him already escaping his senses from the brief, yet powerful, flashback. It had been so long since he'd felt one that strong, that real. He had started to wonder if he would ever again subconsciously float back there. When Oliver first left it happened all the time. Everything around would trigger a memory. The sight of the withered grass by the side of the pool where he'd spent hours on his book was enough to awaken all the senses within, as if he were still there, asking if he wanted to take a dip. He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

He wasn't sure if time was being cruel or kind by slowly erasing him from his world, from his heart. Often, he had purposely pushed those memories away, quickly closing the shutters when he'd thought for sure he'd he heard Oliver's voice down by the veranda, taking a different route home from town so he wouldn't somehow run into a man that was now thousands of miles away. He didn't want the memories. They hurt.

At some point he got his wish. The memories lessened. The feeling of Oliver's ghostly presence around him was replaced by simple recollections of a charismatic boarder with a rude way of saying goodbye. 'Later.' The pain eased as time so graciously led him to others who would fill the role of lover. He thought he would be content never to recall one moment the two of them had spent together...Until the day he realized that forgetting Oliver would leave him empty and soulless forever.

It turned out, he discovered on a rainy day about two years after that fateful summer, that ridding yourself totally of the past too painful to carry with you is a slippery slope. It seemed logical. Why would anyone want to revisit heartache and despair? It was a no-brainer. Forget the guy and move on. Which is what he'd done.

He was in Miami apprenticing with one of his father's colleagues while taking some night classes at the university. He wasn't quite ready to commit full-time to academics just yet. He was enjoying the free time hanging out with friends and partying till all hours of the morning. There was a lot of drinking. A lot of drinking. Cocaine and heroin were easily available everywhere, but he wasn't interested in that sort of partying. Just a few drinks and laughs with close friends that more often than not would end up with naked bodies sprawled across the floor in an alcohol fueled orgy.

He wasn't in a relationship, but there was a girl that would usually be lying next to him post orgy chaos. Bree was the niece of the man he apprenticed for. She had become his self-appointed best friend when he'd first moved to Miami, and for the most part, he had no objection to this. The very first night he arrived she spread her legs for him, making sure he was comfortable by insuring that there were 'no strings attached'. The offer was too good to pass up. She was one of those 'pleasers' and would literally instantly stop whatever she was doing to suck him off whenever he asked. He felt some shame at using this to his advantage quite often, but not enough to stop asking.

He knew her feelings for him were more than he wanted, more than he could ever return. Her ‘I love you’ had far more heart than his casual ‘right back at ya’ response. He didn’t lie to her. He was honest about his inability to love anyone but himself, but she made it obvious she was intent on changing that. Girls often think they can change guys, and in Bree’s case it would turn out to be a tragic miscalculation on her part.

“Who did this to you?” She’d often ask. “Who hurt you so much that you shut your heart off to true love forever? Why would you even give them the power to cause such deep wounds? You shouldn’t give them the satisfaction of letting them rip away what we all desire most in this life. Without true love we’re merely robots, no real purpose but to collect data until our parts wear out and we die. That’s a sad existence. Who programmed you to live such a lonely life?”

He liked her comparison to robots. That was indeed the way he often felt. Marching faithfully through life. Taking in information (most of it useless), storing memories like a hard drive of random pictures to be opened when the past was needed to make the present more palatable. Eventually his drive would overload, leaving no other option but to shut it down. To her this was sad. To him this was logical. It was simple and clean. No messy human ‘feelings’ to complicate things. He’d been there before and it almost fried his motherboard before he even had a chance to run the antivirus.

He never told her about Oliver. He never told anyone about Oliver. He kept his name, his face, his body, his essence, locked away. Secured by a password that no one could possibly guess. No one, that is, except the man that helped create it. Only Oliver could hack that part of him with just one word uttered in the dark stillness of his heart.

Try as she might, Bree’s attempts to open him up were always in vain. He took it in stride, laughing and joking about her need to be loved. He called her desperate and pathetic for being so consumed by the idea of love that she would waste so much time and effort on something that would inevitably only cause her pain…and a great deal of anger as well.

In his ignorance and self-preservation, he failed to see that he was her ‘Oliver’. He was the one that would cause that pain and anger to grow inside of her until it exploded one night in a fit of rage and uncontrolled emotion. What made that night any different than the many nights they’d spent together he would never really know. A quiet evening eating pizza in front of the television somehow turned into the worst night of his life. It was a night he would recall later over and over again in his nightmares...

_“Doug Jones asked me out on a date. I’m thinking about saying yes.” She said, shoving the last bit of popcorn into her mouth._

_He looked at her, a little confused. “But he has red hair. You don’t do redheads. You think they’re too shiny or something stupid like that.”_

_She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Doug’s kind of cute and he has a really nice ass.”_

_He nodded, agreeing with her. “He does have a very nice ass. You should probably go for it before I do.”_

_She sneered at him, not amused by his usual witty comeback. “Aren’t you even just a little jealous? I mean, I know we’re not exclusive, but doesn’t it bother you just a tad bit that I would sleep with someone else? I thought guys are supposed to be possessive and all that shit. Why can’t you be like every other normal guy? I want you to care.”_

_He grinned, reaching over to rub his hand up her bare leg, stopping just below the hem of the short-short’s she was wearing. “You told me normal was boring. You wouldn’t want me to be boring, now would you?”_

_To his surprise she grabbed his hand, forcefully removing it from her leg. She was pissed. He could tell this was going to be another rant about his total indifference to her feelings. The rants were coming more and more frequent and he was having trouble talking her down from them. She was important to him, but her sudden outbursts of anger over things he had been straight with her about from the start was beginning to take its toll on their friendship. He rolled his eyes, hoping she’d simply stomp out of the room in a tantrum and end it there._

_“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” She said solemnly. “I’m done trying to figure you out. I’m done giving you everything and getting nothing back. You’re cold, Elio. You’re broken because you’re weak and scared. You’re a child who refuses to face his fears. You hold on to that fear because you’re too much of a coward to defeat it. I pity you Elio…and anyone who ever has the unfortunate fate to love you.”_

_Her words stung. He knew she was right, but admitting it wasn’t going to make it any more acceptable. She had him pegged. She saw through his facade. So now what? Would she just let it be? Would she simply understand that there was no changing him? Could she? Should she?_

_Why exactly he said what he said next, he would contemplate every day for the rest of his life. Why he chose to be cruel instead of compassionate at that moment he didn’t know. Perhaps to deflect from his own shortcomings and place the blame on her. Yes, it was her, not him that was the problem here! He wasn’t cold he was sensible! He wasn’t a coward he was cautious! He feared nothing! She was wrong about him, and for that he would make her pay dearly!_

_“Have you considered the possibility that the problem here is that you’re just not lovable?” He barked. “Maaaybe I just can’t get into a spoiled rich girl with an irritating whiny voice and hips as wide as the Grand Canyon. Maaaybe I would rather die a lonely, cranky old man than settle for someone as drab and boring as you. I can do so much better…and I plan on it!”He took a deep breath, his words seeming to echo off the walls back at him. As if to make sure he was aware of just how much of a jerk he was_

_sounding. He instantly regretted his rant. The hurt in her eyes flooded out at him. He could physically feel the pain radiating from her, like a burst of heat and angry energy forming a barrier between them. He desperately wanted to take it all back, every rotten word of it. He was about to do just that when she spoke, her voice trembling but firm with conviction._

_“I had no idea you find me so repulsive. You didn’t seem. to have a problem with my wide hips when you were banging into them, but I guess to you a fuck is just a fuck.”_

_She headed towards the door, her head hung low. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not even close to being lovable.” She opened thdoor, turning to face him before she left. He saw a tear escape the corner of her eye, rolling down her cheek. “But at least I’m capable of giving love…and I believe that’s what’s really important in this horribly cruel world.”_

_The door closed behind her, leaving him standing with a lump in his throat and a soul full of guilt. She hadn’t deserved any of that. In a matter of moments, he had managed to destroy a friendship that should have lasted a lifetime. His bruised ego and insecurities allowed him to foolishly push away the only person willing to put up with his faults. No, he couldn’t love her the way she wanted him to, but he certainly could have handled the situation with a little more care. He swallowed the lump, wondering what it was going to take to right this wrong._

_“I wish my father was here” He whispered to himself. “I could really use some of his words of wisdom right now.”_

Little did he know at the time that four days later he would get that wish. His father would be standing behind him, hand on his shoulder, words of wisdom flowing into his ear. A matter of days and his mother would be gripping his hand as they walked through the freshly mowed grass of the cemetery where Bree’s family awaited them. He couldn’t have predicted that night that she would purposely jump in front of an oncoming train, but in his mind, he should have. He should have known her well enough to see it. He should have sensed her despair when she left him that night. After all, he was the one who caused it. He might as well have been right there by the railroad tracks, his palms against her back, waiting for the train’s whistle to give him the sign.

He left Miami right after the funeral. There was nothing left there for him. Nothing but sadness and emptiness. She was gone forever. She was yet another reason to avoid getting close to anyone. He’d have friends and lovers, but he’d always keep them at least an arm’s length away.


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver grimaced at the sight of his father-in-law standing on the over-sized porch of his over-sized house. Everything about the man was over-the-top. He loved to flaunt his wealth with expensive cars, boats, clothing. It was more than just the man’s pompous better-than-thou attitude that annoyed him though. It was the way he always glared at him with a look of contempt and loathing. He wasn’t exactly sure why Jack Bradford despised him so much, but right from their first meeting years ago it was clear the man was going to make marriage to his daughter even more difficult.

Despite Jack’s disapproval, the wedding of his over-indulged daughter took place in the over-sized back yard with its over-priced décor and over-shadowed groom. As predicted, the years since were filled with more than just a few strong worded disagreements between the two men. A few even coming close to brawls. In the end, however, Jack would always claim the victor. Though he’d try to stand his ground, Oliver knew that pushing the old man to far could mean more trouble than what it would be worth.

The problem Oliver had when it came to Jack was a serious one. He had to tread lightly or risk the jackass exposing him. He had to play nice or his heartless father-in-law would say one word and make everything he’d worked for, everything he needed and loved, disappear. He’d lose his job, his home, his wife, and worst of all, his son. There was no winning against the man. He had the upper hand because he had that one simple word… _Elio._

“Hi daddy.” Elizabeth smiled as they walked up the porch steps. “You’re looking handsome today, as always. Oliver and I are here to talk about the trip. Have you had the chance to talk with your professor friend about it? Is he on board with Oliver assisting?” She pouted her lip. “Please tell me were all set to go to Milan. I need this, daddy. I need a vacation.”

“No need to pout, dear.” Jack replied. “I’ve arranged everything. You leave tomorrow like I promised. I even got you that villa you wanted to stay at, as well a full staff to pamper you.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I don’t want you to have to lift one finger while you’re there.”

Oliver chuckled quietly to himself, finding their display of father-daughter banter almost disturbing. They coddled each other as if they were lovers, each playing their dutiful roles of the loyal family member willing to sacrifice and bleed for the other. If it were sincere it would be commendable, but the fakeness made it nauseating. It wasn’t they didn’t love each other, it was the sacrifice and bleeding part that didn’t quite sit true.

“Do you find that amusing?” Jack asked, throwing Oliver his usual glare. “I suppose if it were up to you she’d be cooking and cleaning all day and night just to please your sorry behind. You’d probably have her barefoot and pregnant, scrubbing your floors while you bark orders at her. Is that all you think my daughter’s good for?” He raised his voice. “Let me tell you something you tall freak. If it were up to me you’d be the one doing the scrubbing.”

“I..I..” Oliver stammered nervously. “Of course not. No. No. She’s good for a lot more than that.” He winced. “What I mean is she’s not going to scrub any floors, I promise.”

Jack didn’t respond. He just stood there staring at him for what felt like hours but was really only seconds.

“Elizabeth, go inside and have your mother put on some coffee. Oliver and I will be in soon.

Oliver took a deep breath as Elizabeth faintly smiled at him then went inside. The visit had started out worse than usual, and he didn’t expect things would get much better. He was right.

“I need you to do a little something for me when you’re in Milan” Jack started. “It’s not a big deal and it won’t take too long.”

Oliver shook his head confused. “What? Does it have something to do with the university?”

“No. No.” Jack replied. “It’s nothing like that. It’s not business related at all. It’s more of a personal matter I need taken care of.”

Oliver shrugged. “Sure, why not? What do you need.”

Jack hesitated for a moment, seeming somewhat uncomfortable with what he had to say. Oliver was caught off guard by this. It wasn’t like him to show uncertainty in even the toughest of situations. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable himself. Whatever Jack Bradford wanted him to do was obviously not as simple or ordinary as he was trying to make it out to be.

“I need you to find a man named James Milbourn.” Jack continued. “He’s an old friend of mine. I need you to find him for me.”

“Why?” Oliver asked, still confused. “Has he gone missing? I’m not a private investigator. I don’t know how to track down people. If he’s not in the phone book we’re fucked. I have no clue what to do after that.”

“You’re a pretty resourceful guy, Oliver.” He said. “I’ve seen you research something until you were positive there was no more information to find. You’re not good at much, but researching is the same concept as looking for someone. You’ll be able to handle this.”

“I’ll do my best…I guess.” He agreed, still not knowing what any of this was about. Surely the man would be better off hiring a professional to ‘handle this’. Why put it on him? “What are you looking for here? An address? Phone number? Shoe size so you can send him a gift? I’d go with the Adidas shower shoe. It’ll show tasteful class while being practical as well. He’ll thank you for saving him from athlete’s foot.”

Jack gave a fake laugh. “Thanks for the advice but I’m not looking to give him anything.” He stopped laughing. “I’m looking to take something from him.”

“Oh. I see.” He said. “People generally don’t like things taken from them. Will your friend James be open to handing over what you want from him?”

“It’s highly unlikely he’ll be willing to part with it.” Jack answered. “A man can be very possessive of his belongings. It’s a rare artifact that he believes to be his but is mistaken. It rightfully belongs to me, and I want you to bring it to me.”

A million different question ran through his head. He picked a random one and asked. “How rare is it?” Not really the question of utmost importance here, but it was what came out of his mouth.

“That doesn’t really concern you.” He said. “All you have to do is locate him, find out where he keeps the artifact, take the artifact, bring the artifact to me. A simple task really. I trust you will do as I ask.” He leaned in closer and whispered. “And let’s keep this just between us. No need to involve anyone else.” He jabbed him with his elbow, as if to infer they were a team that needed to keep their playbook secret. Like only they needed to know the code. Everyone else would be oblivious to their game and they could fool them with secrecy. Oliver raised an eyebrow at the idea of it. ‘A pact between enemies. It’s both intriguing and frightening at the same time. It sounds like a plot to a really bad movie. Any minute now Stallone is going to show up and give a long speech about patriotism… or something equally as painful to endure. This is fucking crazy. I’m not taking anything from anybody. Mister Artifact Lover here is gonna have to go through the courts to resolve this. Judge Judy will mop the floor with him.’

“Sorry, Jack. I have a strict policy when it comes to thievery.” Oliver quipped. “I’m only allowed one theft a year and I used this year’s up on a Snickers Bar. It’s a shame because I was so hoping to commit a felony while abroad. Damn that caramel goodness! The temptation is real.”

He knew right away that his father-in-law was not going to except his refusal. They’d played this game before. Papa Bradford demands something. He sarcastically tries to refuse. Papa crosses his arms and looks down at the ground. He looks down to watch Papa draw out a letter with his foot. He doesn’t even have to spell the whole word. Oliver knows what the capital _E_ stands for.

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” Oliver said, his sarcasm now turned dry. “It’s one thing to force me to do trivial things just to amuse yourself, or to make me lie to your wife about where you were the night before…but this, this is too much. I’m not a criminal.”

Jack huffed. “Stop acting like a pussy. It’s not theft if the thing is mine to begin with. Grow a pair and get the job done.” He turned to walk into the house. He laughed as he opened the door. “I bet you regret ever meeting that skinny fuckboy. You really should have resisted his teenage horny ass.”

Oliver wanted to scream. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs to make sure his miserable, hateful, despicable father-in-law heard loud and clear. He wanted to scream out Elio’s name. He wanted to grab the old man by his expensive, well-tailored shirt and tell him to never ever again belittle the man that Elio was…That Elio is! To never again speak of their love as if it were a summer tryst made of nothing but lust and hormones. He wanted to scream to him and everyone else that he didn’t regret anything he’d done in Italy that summer. In fact, he cherished every second he spent in Elio’s arms. He desperately wanted to scream…but the price he’d pay was to high.


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s getting late.” Ben mumbled wearily, lightly running his fingers throw the twisted curls of Elio’s hair. “We all have to be at the airport by eleven, and if I know you, you probably haven’t even started packing.”

Elio groaned, to tired to open his eyes. “Can’t I just stay here the night? It won’t take me long to pack in the morning.”

Ben gently tugged on Elio’s hair. “Wake up and get dressed. You know the rules.”

Elio groaned again, nudging away from him as he tossed back the blanket and sat up, instantly missing the warmth of the cover and the comfort of Ben’s body next to his.

“You have too many rules.” He grumbled. “It kind of sucks being the lover of a paranoid control freak with obvious intimacy issues. Do you really believe someone is watching to see who leaves your house every morning? I’m tired of feeling like you’re ashamed of this…of me.”

“It’s not shame, Elio.” He said, climbing out of the bed. “It’s fear. It’s caution. It’s protecting both of us from the hate and violence so many out there want to punish us with. You’re young. The world has changed a little when it comes to these things, but now, with the fear of AIDS rampant and every gay man being labeled a predator, it’s not safe. I just don’t think we should needlessly put ourselves out there to be victimized. Besides, this is Ohio for Christ sake, not New York City or San Francisco.”

Elio rolled his eyes, grabbing his shirt from the bedpost. “Okay, I get it. I’ll leave before all the scary homophobes wake up and start their early morning gay hunt. I mean, that doesn’t even make sense Ben. Everyone knows the gays are a nocturnal creature. The sun messes up their gaydar and causes the entire community to suffer a collective panic attack.” He joked. “They need the moon to guide them towards each other. They’re like super fabulous werewolves.”

Ben couldn’t help but grin at Elio’s silliness. “Yeah well, finish dressing and leave before the breeders’ figure that out. I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow. Don’t forget to pack the notes you’ve taken in class. They’ll come in handy on this trip.”

“Yes sir Professor.” Elio said playfully as he headed for the door. “And I’ll be sure to raise my hand if I have any questions and, of course, never ever plagiarize. I’ll be a good boy and follow your rules. Just know that in three months when I graduate I plan on making some rules of my own.”

He chuckled as he went down the stairs of the building to get to the front exit. He thought it kind of cute that Ben actually thought he took notes in class. He didn’t really need to. He was more than capable of retaining everything he learned in that classroom. _‘It’s not a problem.’_ He thought to himself as he stepped out into the crisp night air. _‘I remember everything.’_

It’s strange how just one simple thought, a fragment of a conversation, a phrase mimicked at just the right time, can so abruptly transport you back in time. Déjà vu is a phenomenon that even the experts have difficulty understanding. The brain takes you somewhere else without so much as a warning. Suddenly you’re in a different, yet all too familiar place and time, living out a memory as if it were here and now. It’s quick and confusing, leaving you wondering if it was real or a dream.

_“Oliver, I remember everything.”_

_His voice sounding so incredibly soft and sexy. His heavy breath flowing through the telephone line as if it would come out of the receiver and enter him. He wanted that. He wanted so desperately to feel the heat of Oliver’s breath on his neck again. He closed his eyes, trying to capture the feeling of it as he waited for more. He was getting married. So what. What did it matter? He could marry every woman on the planet and she would never have the part of Oliver he shared with him. She’s a warm body and a baby machine, that’s all. At least that’s what he was telling himself, though he wasn’t sure of that even a little._

_“Do you remember Rome?” Elio asked, still yearning to feel that hot breeze through the phone._

_“Of course I do.” He answered, his voice still so soft. “I remember chasing you up the mountain, hoping to catch you so I could kiss you in front of the waterfall. I was relieved when you finally slowed down, and I made it to you.”_

_“I slowed down on purpose.” Elio grinned coyly. “I wanted you to catch me. I wanted you to kiss me.” Without giving much thought to what he was saying he let slip out something he didn’t intend. “I wanted you to stay with me.” It was the truth, but they both knew that was never an option._

_“Elio..I…” Oliver fumbled for words. “I don’t…I mean…We…”_

_Elio bit down on his lip, the anxiety building with every awkward attempt Oliver made to respond. The poor guy was trying extra hard to say something, anything that might satisfy both their discomfort at that moment. His struggle to put even a simple sentence together made Elio squirm. He needed to think fast and put Oliver out of this misery._

_“You know, I just heard my mother calling for me.” He said quickly. “It’s probably time to set the table for dinner. It..It was great talking to you. I hope to hear from you again. If not, good luck with the wedding.” His stomach churned, sickened by the idea that this could be the last time he hears that soft voice. The last time to pretend he wasn’t really gone._

_“Take care of yourself.” Oliver said, his voice now sounding weak and broken. “Later.”_

_He kept the phone to his ear for longer than he should. He hoped with every part of his being that the beeping on the other end was only temporary. That any moment Oliver’s voice would once again fill him with the joy and excitement that only his voice could. He waited, but what they had shared together during that short summer was now disconnected. Their ill-fated affair was left to linger in the streets of Crema, in the buildings of Bergamo, and in the deepest hidden chamber of their broken hearts._

He made it back to his dorm room, feeling tired and irritated. He was pissed that Ben had made him leave. He was anxious because he hadn’t yet packed. Mostly though, he was sad. Of all the déjà vu the universe could have thrown at him, why it had to be that depressing one he didn’t know. Was there some reason for it? Was it a sign of some sort? Was it a punishment? Was it a test? Was the universe reminding him that he was about to venture to a city that could very easily trigger unwanted memories? He tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. There was no way to drown out the loud and constant beeping that rang ominously through his head.


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m so excited.” Elizabeth chimed, squeezing Oliver’s hand. “In just a short while we’ll be landing in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I’ve traveled a lot, but I’ve never been to Milan. I want to see everything! I want to taste all the food and drink all the wine.”

She rests her head on his shoulder as he stared out the plane’s window into the night lights of a city that held his heart. He’d left it there so many years ago, somewhere amongst the debris of lost loves and sad goodbyes. It was of no use to him anymore as he climbed aboard the train that would tear him away from Elio forever. The beating of his heart as the train pulled away was nothing more than a painful reminder that, with each pump of blood, it was but one more beat away from where it belonged…from who it belonged to. Best to leave it behind rather than feel its yearning beat every day for the rest of his life. It belonged in Italy. It belonged in the world they created there.

When he’d found out about the trip he refused to go. He couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around the thought of returning. Would the memories be welcoming? Would they be painful? Would he walk down the street and see Elio’s smiling face on every corner, or leaned against every building with tear stained cheeks? He had no way of knowing how he’d feel, but because of his father-in-law he was about to find out.

By the time the plane landed, and they were making their way through the crowded airport, the tension in his shoulders and neck was killing him. He wanted more than anything to board the next flight back to the states and avoid what was sure to be an unpleasant and problematic week. He was going to have to somehow juggle his demanding wife, assist an art professor, track down a stranger, and hardest of all…deal with a past he never truly stopped longing for.

“You’re walking too fast.” Elizabeth complained. “I’m wearing heels, Oliver. Slow down.”

“We have to hurry, Beth.” He said breathless. “There’s a car waiting for us at the front of the airport.”

Elizabeth stopped, placing her handbag and small carry case on the floor. “Well, they’re going to have to wait.” She said. “I have to use the restroom.”

Oliver sighed, frustrated. “Fine, go ahead. Hurry though. Don’t spend all day in there doing your face or whatever you ladies do in there for hours at a time.”

She furled her eyebrows. “Sorry we can’t just whip it out and get it done. I’ll be right back.”

He found a nearby bench and sat down. He hadn’t been able to sleep on the plane and he was beginning to feel drowsy. It was a long flight. He was anxious to get to their villa to take a nap. He rubbed his tired eyes, leaving them a little blurry as he tried to focus. He blinked several times, and on the last blink he saw something through the haze that made his entire body freeze and his lungs collapse. He blinked again, sure he was mistaken.

He somehow managed to stand, though his legs felt like heavy bricks. He wanted his feet to move, but they weren’t cooperating. He wanted his mouth to call out, but it too was failing him. His eyes were clear now, the shine off the black curls from across the airport coming though bright. All he could see was the curls. He remembered those luscious curls, the many times he laid next to him, swirling the soft locks around his fingers as they spoke of their dreams and desires. He needed to see his face. He needed those curls to turn around and look into his eyes. Until that very moment, he wasn’t even remotely aware of just how much he needed…

“Elio!” He shouted. “Elio!” His feet finally moved, stumbling a bit at first as he swerved through the crowd towards the curls. The crowd was thick, like a maze designed to keep the mouse from its reward. He panicked as the curls turned a corner, briefly losing sight of his past. He sighed relief when he spotted him again, this time standing still in front of rack of postcards.

 _‘This is it.’_ He thought to himself as he approached from behind. _‘I’m finally going to get the chance to tell him what I should have told him long ago. I’ll confess my love for him. I’ll let him know that only he makes me feel alive. I’ll tell him he’s everything to me. I’ll get on my knees and beg him to call me by his name every day for the rest of my life.’_

His hand trembled as he reached out. The years of aching to see him, to touch him, all fading with each inch closer. He could barely breath when his hand landed on the man’s shoulder. One last frozen moment in time before the past, present and future would align on its rightful path. One final farewell to the sorrow of an empty life.

It could have been a moment of what dreams are made of, of what romantic novels elude to, or what many love songs promise. Instead, it was gut wrenching and soul crushing. Fate was a cruel bitch and she spared no mercy on Oliver. The young man was startled when the tall stranger grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. He might have even tried to punch the guy had it not been for the horrified and anguished look on his face. He felt pity for the man. He was obviously in desperate search of someone named Elio, and absolutely devastated to find he was mistaken.

“I’m sorry.” Oliver said, solemnly. “I…I thought you were someone else.”

“No problem, dude.” The young man replied. “I hope you find him.”

Oliver did his best to politely smile and thank him before walking away. He sat back down on the bench, numbed by the whole debacle. He felt foolish. Not only for startling the unsuspecting stranger, but for believing that it was even possible that Elio would just happen to be in the same airport, the same city, the same country. He couldn’t fathom the number of miracles that would have to occur for it to be even slightly plausible. He was sure Elio was somewhere living an extraordinary happy life without even a fleeting thought of him or their summer together. He’d been in Italy for mere minutes and had already nearly lost his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

“I must be fucking hallucinating.” Elio mumbled to himself as he stood frozen at the front entrance of the airport. He was barely aware of the flurry of rushed travelers coming and going through the glass-paned doors. The only thing in his line of vision were the two people climbing into the back seat of a limousine. A woman, who looked to be about thirty or thirty-five. She was beautiful and stylish in her Christian Dior suit. She elegantly entered the limo while a tall blonde gentleman held the door for her. 

“That’s all it is.” He mumbled to himself. “Just two ordinary people getting in a limo. Don’t let your brain fuck with you. Go get your luggage and stop thinking every tall man you see is him.” 

He meant to turn away. He felt ridiculous standing like an idiot staring at a man for no other reason than the fact he was tall and blonde. He was going to look away, but something inside stopped him. An inkling. A tingle of the spine that heightened his instinct. There was something more familiar about this man than just his height and hair color. He couldn’t see his face. In fact, from where he was standing all he could see was the back of his head and his broad shoulders down to the mid-back. Yet, it was enough. The familiar hue of the shirt. The familiar way it draped just so over the shoulders. The way it contoured perfectly around the strong back muscles. It was enough to take his breath away and leave him literally floored. 

“Oh my God, Elio, wake up!” He heard Angie’s voice muffled through his haze. “What happened? Did you hit your head? Are you alright? Oh my God!” 

His haze cleared enough to see he was laying on the floor. A small group of people had formed around him, most of them his classmates. “I..I’m fine.” He said, slowly sitting up. “I must have passed out or something that’s all.” He felt hands on his head, fingers rubbing his scalp. He looked over to find Ben knelt beside him, a worried look on his face. “What are you doing? Stop playing with my head.” 

“I’m checking for bumps.” Ben replied. “You might have hurt your head when you fell.” 

Elio nudged him away. “I’m fine. I’m not bleeding, and it doesn’t hurt so there’s nothing to worry about. Just help me up, please.” 

Ben helped him stand, holding him at the elbow to keep him steady. “The bus is waiting for us outside. Do you think you can walk? Do you feel dizzy or lightheaded? I can get a wheelchair if you need one. I don’t want you to fall again. Maybe we should take you to the hospital to get checked out. Just to be on the safe side.” 

“I said I’m fine!” Elio responded, a bit more scornful than he meant to. He appreciated the concern Ben was showing. In fact, the attention from him was endearing. Had they been alone he might have been inclined to give him a smooch for being so sweet. 

Angie chimed in. “If you’re fine, then why did you pass out to begin with? People don’t just drop to the floor for no reason.” 

It took a moment for it to come back to him, but when it did, he felt like he would nearly pass out again. He swayed on his feet as Ben held him steady, giving him the chance to collect himself before going down again. His eyes quickly darted towards the doors. He was sure the limo would be gone by now, and with it his chance to see Oliver again. There was a taxi parked there now. An older man fighting with the driver while tossing money at him. The love of his life was merely a stone’s throw away and his pathetic self couldn’t keep it together long enough to chase after him. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to get on a plane and go home. The idea of spending the next week in a city, near their city, knowing that he’s there but not knowing where, sounded like torture. 

He sighed deep, suddenly aware of everyone’s eyes on him. As much as he wanted to run away from this nightmare, there were people depending on him to stay. “I just need to eat something.” He said. “I passed out because I haven’t had anything to eat. They have amazing pizza just down the street and I plan on eating an extra large all by myself. Let’s go.” 

Ben kept hold of his arm as they made their way to the bus. Once seated, he felt Ben’s fingers gently rub the underside of his arm. Their eyes met briefly in a rare moment of unexpected tenderness before Ben quickly looked away to avoid being spotted showing just a little too much empathy and caring for his student. Elio couldn’t help but smirk at his paranoia. Ben wasn’t the type to show his emotions, and he wondered why a simple fainting spell had brought out such an affectionate response. Was he finally going to let his guard down? Was this a small but poignant start to a possible open relationship? 

He was curious about Ben’s behavior as the bus pulled away from the airport, but his mind kept going back to Oliver. His mind, his heart, his need, his desire, all the feelings he thought he’d buried deep enough to never surface, once again cascading through his veins like the waterfalls that streamed just a few miles away. The majestically beautiful remote corner of the world where he and Oliver could throw caution to the mountainous wind and run free as two young explorers, adventurers, lovers. Carefree and uninhibited to be who they were while they frolicked and laughed and kissed. It was the only day in his entire life, before or since, that he felt truly open and genuine to himself. 

He’d learned a lot on that visit to Milan years ago. In just a few short days he had lived a lifetime of happiness, excitement, and intimacy that most only dream of. Yet, like Newton’s law, what goes up must come down. The high of love and romance is spellbinding, leaving you mesmerized and vulnerable to the eventual low that so often befalls those who dare put themselves in heartaches path. With every breathtaking kiss, every electrifying touch, every passionate moan, you let reality slip away. How long you’d be allowed to live in this new reality you built was of no concern. In your reality, time was unlimited and only forever existed. It’s such a lovely, giving, kind world you created. It really is a shame that it can so abruptly fall apart when the real world decides to crash the party. 

He sat silently next to Angie as the bus traveled towards his past, desperately forcing himself to drown out the loud sounds of a train station, and ignore the excruciating pain of a farewell he would have given anything to stop.


	8. Chapter 8

He had to admit, the view from their villa’s balcony was astonishing. His father-in-law had spared no expense on their lodging and other accommodations. There were no less than eight people at their disposal at any time, day or night. They wouldn’t so much as have to lift a finger during their stay. This thrilled Elizabeth, who instantly started barking orders at the well-prepared staff. He was relieved to see her smiling contently instead of snarling with disappointment and disdain. She would stay busy and leave him be if she had others to boss around. He was free to relax and take in the sights and sounds of the surrounding village from his own private roost, alone and undisturbed, to just…think.

‘Think’ is what he did, and lots of it. His thoughts raced in and out of times and places. The past, present and future mixing together in a confusing spiral of memories and dreams of what was yet to come. He felt divided, not in half, but in three separate persons. The Oliver who, years ago, took the hand of a young prince and danced through the darkened walkways of the city, unabashed and spirited. The Oliver who now stood weary and empty in that same city, lonely and idle. Then, there was the Oliver who wanted desperately to hold on to hope of a bright future but felt the hopelessness creeping ever so quietly inside him with each passing moon.

He wondered, as he went through the balcony doors into the master bedroom, if it was time for him to leave for the hotel where he was to meet the professor he’d be assisting. He wasn’t much looking forward to the meeting but welcomed the distraction from the ‘thinking’ he’d been doing most of the morning. He grabbed his watch from the nightstand, glad to find he only had a few minutes before the rental car would be delivered and he could leave. He was curious about this professor. He didn’t know much about him, only that he was younger than most and was a huge Monet fan. He understood his duty was to be not much more than a gopher. He’d accompany the professor and his students as they toured the area, keeping notes and taking photos of whatever was deemed pertinent to their studies. He was almost starting to think maybe the gig wouldn’t be so bad as he climbed in the driver seat and started up the overly showy car he’d be driving around in. _‘It might actually be a little entertaining to watch the students try their best to ditch the two of them to go party with the locals.’_ He thought amusingly as he drove off.

It was only a fifteen-minute drive to the hotel. He drove slowly, noticing the clock on the dashboard had him running somewhat early for the meeting. He put the windows down, feeling the cool moist breeze fan through his hair, across his bare forearms. He was glad he opted to wear short sleeves despite the slight chill in the air. He fumbled with the stereo, flicking through the stations until he found a suitable song to match his sudden enthusiasm for the day. Something upbeat and fast was what he wanted and was pleased to find a station playing Michael Jackson’s “Bad”. He tapped his fingers and bounced to the beat, enjoying the solitude of just himself, Milan's refreshing aura, and Michael’s stellar voice. He was disappointed the song was nearly over when he’d found it. He could only get so lucky if the station were having a Jackson marathon. He waited for the quick announcements to end, then crossed his fingers and said a little prayer for “Thriller” to start.

He was shocked to hear Michael’s voice actually return. It wasn’t the eerily smooth beginning of “Thriller” he was hoping to hear, but it was a song he knew and liked well. It was a much younger Michael Jackson belting out “I’ll Be There” along with his brothers. It was impossible not to sing along to the whimsical melody. The endearing words of devotion and love rolled effortlessly off his tongue as he sang. He wanted to picture himself singing those words to Elizabeth, but with each chord and verse that picture faded, replaced with a more vivid and heartwarming picture of a brightly smiling Elio strumming the chords on his guitar as they softly harmonized the songs finale.

“I’ll be there...I’ll be there. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there. Don’t you know, baby! I’ll be there. I’ll be there. Just call my name. I’ll be there.”

He wished he had sang those words to Elio that summer and followed through on each and every one of them. He smiled nostalgically as he parked the car in the hotel garage. _‘I would have had to change the lyrics just a little.’_ He thought to himself, singing quietly under his breath as he strolled to his meeting.

“Just call me by your name. I’ll be there.”

The elevator was crowded on the way to the fifth floor. He tried to carefully nudge his way out the door at his stop but managed to elbow an unsuspecting woman carrying a bag of groceries. “Sorry. So sorry!” He exclaimed, worried the woman was going to shoot the can of Spam he noticed in the bag directly at his head. He could tell the cranky woman wanted to but controlled the urge long enough for him to escape and dart down the hallway. Room five-twenty-six was at the end of the hall. He checked his watch. _‘Right on time.’_ He thought as he knocked firmly on the door.

It didn’t take long before the door opened and a tall man with a big greeting smile said “Hello. You must be Oliver. Please, come in. I was just getting to tomorrow’s itinerary.” He pointed to a chair that sat next to a small table piled with papers. “Have a seat. I’m anxious to go over the plans for the week with you. Have you been informed of your duties?”

Oliver nodded as he sat down. “Yes, I have. I’m at your disposal. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.” He paused, realizing he had partially sang out the end of the sentence. ‘I’ll be there…I’ll be there.’ He darted his eyes up towards the professor’s face. Had he noticed? Would he think him odd and promptly dismiss him? To his ease, the professor was a Jackson fan.

“That’s an oldie but goodie.” The professor grinned. “I haven’t heard that song in ages.”

“I just heard it in the car on the way here.” Oliver replied. “I can’t get it out of my head. It’ll probably be there all day.”

“It could be worse.” The professor laughed, sitting down in the chair opposite him. “I’ve had that annoying song “Never Gonna Give You Up” stuck up there for days now. They really need to stop playing that on the radio.” He picked up a folder from the table. “I was reading through your resume and some notes that were sent to me. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. You have much more education and experience than most your age. Although you didn’t major in Arts, you still have a fairly wide knowledge of the subject. Not specifically Impressionism, but your general understanding of it helps. The thing I don’t understand is why someone with your extensive studies and prestigious position agreed to be a mere assistant to a common professor. Surely your time could be better spent.”

Oliver smiled, enjoying the man’s praise. _‘I like this guy.’_ He thought before responding. “I really can’t think of a better way to spend my time than exploring this wondrous city with a bunch of awe-struck students. Most of them have no clue what they’re about to see and experience. It’ll be fun watching their excitement of it all.” He leaned forward slightly, making sure to be heard. “And for the record, Professor, I don’t think you’re common in the least. I’ve done my research on you as well. I’m not the only overachiever in this room.”

“Thank you.” He said, feeling like maybe he was blushing at the complement. He hoped not. “There’s no need to call me professor. My name is Ben.” He reached over the pile of papers to shake hands. “I think we’re going to get along splendidly.”

Oliver shook his hand then joked. “I think so too. As long as you never sing that horrible Rick Astley song out loud in front of me.”

Ben smirked. “I can’t make that promise. It’s infectious. There’s no telling when I might vomit it out and expose you and the rest of this lovely city to its vicious attack. I’ll do my best though.”

They spent the next couple hours going over the weeks schedule. They had a lot to cram into a short period of time. Oliver was glad he’d keep busy while Elizabeth did her things. He wouldn’t have to deal much with her excessive shopping and fine dining. He’d be spending most of the week on a bus with strangers. He knew it was wrong to want to be away from his own wife while they vacationed in such a romantic place. He wished he could feel differently about this trip. His mind scrambled as he returned to his car to run some errands for Ben. Thoughts of Elizabeth and their son. Thoughts of his temporary boss, who was way cooler than expected. Had he not been so distracted by the ‘oldie but goodie’ that still danced in his head, when he got in the car and pulled away, he might not have missed seeing the group of students walking on the other side of the garage.


	9. Chapter 9

“He’s not going to be happy with us if he finds out we left the hotel without telling him.” Brenda huffed as the group of five exited the elevator into the parking garage. “He specifically said he didn’t want us venturing out on our own. He doesn’t want to have to keep track of our whereabouts the whole week. He might have something he needs us to do.”

“He’s not our babysitter.” Angie grunted. “We’re too old to be told what to do. If he needs us he’ll find us. He can’t expect us to just sit in the hotel room waiting for orders. I want to check out some things in Milan that don’t have anything to do with art or any other historical relics. I want to find out where the cool people hang out and live it up a little.” She looked at Elio with a playful grin. “Don’t you all want to have some fun before we have to go back to our humdrum lives?”

Elio nodded his agreement. He was looking forward to the tours and projects Ben planned for them, but after his ‘episode’ at the airport he felt the need to let loose a little and live in the moment rather than the past. He needed alcohol. He needed loud music and wild dancing. It was early in the day, so he wasn’t sure they’d be able to find such a scene. He’d settle for a spiked pop and a boombox playing on the corner if that was the only option. He wanted to, for at least a while, forget about what he saw. WHO he saw.

As if the universe heard his thoughts and decided to fuck with him, his desire to forget was proven futile as the group neared the garage exit. It was a shadowy light out of the corner of his eye that made him turn his head to the left. A quick flash of something, someone, that made him focus on the car about to make the turn out of the garage on to the drive that lead to the main road. The others walked ahead of him, his pace slowed by the overwhelming need to follow that car. At first, he had no idea why he had such a strong lure to the vehicle, but in a split second he became very aware of the why.

He felt the dizziness like before at the airport. His head spinning as his heart palpated far too fast. _‘Not this time.’_ He screamed in his own head. _‘Don’t miss your chance again, you fucking wuss.’_ To his surprise his body cooperated. Without even a slight hesitation his legs started running towards the car. _‘Don’t pull out! Don’t go! For fuck sake please don’t leave me again!’_ He was stopped dead in his tracks, a car honking their horn in his ear while narrowly missing him. It was close, but he could still see the taillights of Oliver’s car as it turned out of the garage. He continued to run. With what little breath he could spare, he called out to the driver.

“Oliver! Oliver!” He yelled, the taillights getting farther away despite his effort to keep up. He could feel his body begin to fail him, the heaviness in his thighs causing him to lose speed as the car made another turn on to the main road. He tried to push forwards, his muscles and lungs deciding to let him down when he needed them the most. He stopped just short of the main road, just short of the man he continued to let slip away time after time.

He stood panting out his exhaustion as the others walked quickly towards him. His disappointment and frustration bursting out of him with each drop of sweat that had formed on his forehead and neck. He turned away from them as they neared, not wanting to answer the questions he was sure they were going to ask. They must think he’s a lunatic running after a car for no apparent reason what so ever. Between his shenanigans at the airport and now this bizarre foot race with a random vehicle, they’ll probably want to call the men with the straight-jackets.

“What the hell, dude.” Brandon said. The youngest of the group who looked like he was no more than twelve. “Did that guy flip you off or somethin’? Why the fuck you chasin’ him?”

Elio took A deep breath, finally feeling his legs again. “No, he didn’t flip me off. I just…I thought I recognized him from somewhere. I wanted to just say hi…or something. I was wrong though. It wasn’t who I thought it was.” He lied.

The group collectively let out a burst of laughter. Brandon quipped. “You just nearly got run over, exhausted yourself, and made a fool of yourself just to say hi to a stranger. If you had caught up to him he probably would have been freaked out enough to drive right over you. That would have been sad...Hilarious…but sad.”

Seeing it from their perspective, Elio couldn’t help but join in the laughter. He must have looked ridiculous in his desperation to greet a total stranger. They didn’t know. They had no clue. There was no way for them to guess that the stranger was someone he knew as intimately as he knew himself. Someone he had no regret risking life, limb, and humiliation to reach. He’d do far more than simply run after him if he could. If presented with the chance again, he’d find a way to sprout wings and fly into his arms. He’d summon all his energy and power to stop time just long enough for the two of them to look into each other’s eyes and transport back to their summer of love where they belonged. They would be the ones freaking out if they had even an inkling of what he was willing to do for just one more touch from Oliver.

The others went along. Elio, wittily excusing himself on the grounds of total shame for acting a fool. They didn’t argue with his reasoning as they walked away. Angie shot him a perceptive glance before joining them. He had the feeling she was going to question him more about the situation when she got back. She knew him to well to so easily fall for the crap explanation the others believed to be true.

He needed to find him. Oliver was there in Milan and he needed to find him. The question on his mind as he headed back to the hotel, was how? He’d start by checking every hotel in the city. Oliver was driving away from this very hotel. It was even possible he was staying there. He could be staying in the room across from his for that matter. If that were the case, it would be more than just a coincidence the two of them were there at the same time. It would be fate. It would be every star in the galaxy lining up to brightly guide a path just for them to find each other.

“We don’t give out that information.” The lady behind the desk said. “It’s against policy to give out any information about our guests.”

Elio sighed heavily. “I know. I wouldn’t want you to get in any trouble or anything. I just really need to find him.” He lowered his head. His voice purposefully cracking as he continued. “He’s my brother and I haven’t seen him in eight years. He ran away from home because our father was abusive, and our mother was a drug addict.” He sniffled a little. “I don’t blame him for leaving. I just…I never got the chance to say goodbye. I saw him in the garage, but he drove away. I just need to know if he’s staying here. If not, I need to look elsewhere. Please signora, he’s the only family I have left.”

It wasn’t much of a creative lie, but it was effective. The woman looked as if she were going to climb over the desk to comfort him with a huge ‘motherly’ hug. He’d pulled at her heartstrings enough to get what he needed from her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. There was no one with the name Oliver booked at that hotel.

He rode the elevator up to his floor, contemplating if he should use the same lie on all the hotel receptionists or switch it up. He stepped off the elevator not even noticing Ben walking towards him.

“Where have you been?” Ben asked, startling him enough to make him jump slightly.

He turned around to find Ben standing there with a disappointed look on his face. “I haven’t been anywhere. I..I went down to the lobby to…to just look around.”

“Are the others down there as well?” He asked.

“The others?” Elio paused, looking away in hopes of coming up with a good cover for his friends. “The others had to go to the store across the street to get antacids.” He rubbed his stomach. “Brandon has a problem.”

“Oh.” Ben grinned. “And here I was thinking you all sneaked away to have some fun without me. I should have known better than to assume any of you would be that irresponsible and deliberately go against my wishes. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Elio sensed the sarcasm but ignored it. “Did you need us for something?”

“Nothing too important.” He replied. “My assistant was here. I was hoping to introduce him to all of you…but that can wait until later tonight. Today I was hoping we could just walk around the city a bit. Maybe get some lunch. They’ve allowed me to set up a slide show in the conference room downstairs to present tonight. It’s open to all and I want to make sure my students are there. It’ll be an early night. We have to be up in the morning to start our tour of the Scuderie del Castello Visconte."

“Yeah, lunch would be nice.” Elio said, realizing that finding the time to track down Oliver was going to be tricky. He had no idea how long Oliver was planning on staying in Italy. He could be packing his bags to leave right now. Having lunch with Ben could very well make the difference between catching Oliver before he walked out of his life yet again or having the reunion he’d always hoped they would. He was sure there was a lie, a believable story he could tell Ben to brush him off. If it weren’t for the almost begging look in Ben’s eyes, he would have spat out his lie and been gone.

“Great.” Ben chimed. “Let’s go back to my room so I can change my clothes then we’ll go.”

Elio nodded, following behind him. He tried his best to keep his mind off Oliver as he sat down at the table in Ben’s room and waited for him to change. He knew it was going to be next to impossible to concentrate on anything other than Oliver until he found him and had him in his arms again. He fidgeted anxiously in the chair, stretching his arms as he attempted to relax for just one minute. Clumsily he hit some papers on the table, knocking them to the floor.

"Shit" he mumbled quietly as he knelt to pick them up. He scooped the loose papers and carefully put them back where they belonged. He bent down again, reaching for a plain vanilla folder that had also fallen. He held it in his hand, passively reading the large printed words on the front _. ‘Ben, this is everything you need to know. Hope you enjoy the trip…Doug’_ He looked towards the bathroom wondering if Ben were almost finished dressing. He was curious what was in the folder that Ben needed to know. It was more than likely a simple list of places to visit while in Milan.

He opened the folder. It took a moment for it to register, but once the name written neatly at the top of the page sunk in to his brain, he nearly fell out of the chair. It went beyond fate. It was more than just the stars pointing the way to what was lost. It was destiny. It was foretold long before this trip, long before their last hug on a train platform. It was already written in stone by the time they had kissed passionately by the waterfalls. Their love. Their lives. Their bond. All predetermined before they even shook each other’s hands on that destined summer day.

His shock quickly turned into confusion and worry. It hadn’t occurred to him that Oliver’s presence could affect Ben. In fact, he hadn’t really thought through what any of it meant for any of them. He was so focused on just a slim chance of seeing Oliver again that he hadn’t clearly looked at the big picture. There were people involved that might not be as thrilled as he was about them finding each other.

He remembered the woman Oliver was with. She probably wouldn’t be happy to have an ex-lover suddenly show up. Did she even know about him? Did Oliver ever tell anyone about that summer? This trip that Ben had spent so much time, effort, money on, was important to not only him personally, but professionally as well. How could he in good conscience ruin that by selfishly putting his own feelings ahead of any off theirs? He heard the bathroom door begin to open. The panic made him freeze. He had only a few moments to decide if telling Ben that his new assistant was his first and only love was a good idea or a very, very, bad one.


	10. Chapter 10

He peeked through the cracked open bedroom door. Elizabeth lay sprawled out across the king-sized bed, a whispered snore escaping as she napped soundly. He quietly closed the door, tiptoeing his way down the hall to the stairway that led to the kitchen. He sat on a stool at the breakfast counter that separated the large kitchen from the even larger living room.

He stared at the small paper in his hand, the address scribbled carelessly in pencil. He’d rushed to write it down after finding it in the local directory. There was a part of him that had hoped that when he opened the paper again it would be smudged, or even erased all together. He didn’t want to know where James Milbourn lived. He wanted to pretend he’d never heard that name and enjoy his time in Italy.

After meeting Ben, he had more optimism about this trip. He might actually like assisting the kind professor. However, his need to keep his secret weighed heavy on him. There would be very little enjoyment on this trip, only lies, betrayal, and crime. He frowned as he shoved the paper back in his pocket. How he’d managed to get into this mess was beyond him. Had he’d known then that his indiscretion with Elio would have caused such ciaos, would he have still fallen in love with him? Would he have still kissed him on the berm that warm summer’s day?

He snorted out a knowing chuckle as he went to fill a glass with Scotch. _‘Of course you would have you foolish twit. Elio had you the moment you pulled up in front of that villa. You didn’t even have to see him. You could feel his wanting gaze on you before you even had the car door shut. You were captivated by his presence before you even saw those eyes that could see right through to your soul.’_

He checked his watch. There wasn’t enough time before he needed to return to the hotel for Ben’s slideshow to track down Mr. Melbourn. It would have to wait another day. He took a deep breath as he gulped down the scotch. There was no use in ruining a fine evening in Milan worrying about that unpleasant task.

He wasn’t looking forward to telling Elizabeth he’d made plans for them to attend a seminar that would surely bore her. He climbed the stairs slowly, taking in every moment of peace there was before he woke her to explain that it was important they go because that’s why he was there in the first place. He was there to work, not simply follow her to every boutique and gift store within fifty miles.

“Why would I ever want to go to such a thing?” She asked angrily. “I understand you have to work but grow a pair and tell the man you have other plans. He can have you all day, but the evenings are all mine.”

Oliver rolled his eyes behind her back. “First, I have a pair and they’re spectacular. Second, I want to go. As fascinating as designer shoes and over-priced dresses are, I would rather sit through a slideshow of dead artist with a group of privileged brats and their professor.”

“Have you met the professor? Do you like him? I hope the two of you get along. I don’t want to spend the entire week listening to you complain about him and his group of geeks.” She said.

“I like him well enough.” He replied. He thought for a moment, trying to decide what it was about Ben that made him so likable. He was a nice guy with a good sense of humor. That was enough to make him bearable, but not necessarily likable. It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps his like for the good professor was a little more than that of a co-worker. He shook the thought out of his mind. Ben wasn’t his type. He had blonde hair, not curly dark locks. He was muscular, not thin and lanky. He had blue eyes, not dancing brown.

To his delight, the battle was over relatively quick. She begrudgingly accepted they would attend the seminar, but he had no doubt she’d find a way for him to pay for that decision later.

The car ride to the hotel was silent, neither so much as looking at each other as they stared out their windows at the beauty of the city. They passed by a small cafe that he recognized immediately. It was there that he and Elio had spent their last morning together, drinking tea and laughing as if neither felt the sharp pain of impending heartache piercing through their chests. They ignored the gripping anguish long enough to enjoy one last lazy, light morning before their dream world would disappear forever.

The image of Elio smiling and laughing while they sat at the quaint table outside the cafe, was almost to overwhelming to bear. He put his hand on his heart, willing it to release the ache that still remained even after all this time. His memories of Elio were always so bittersweet. A quick jolt of joy and excitement in remembrance, followed by the inevitable prick of sorrow and sadness.

“Are you alright?” He heard Elizabeth ask. “Are you having a heart attack or something? Does your chest hurt? I knew this would happen. I warned you not to eat so many soft-boiled eggs. They’re bad for the heart.”

“I’m not having a heart attack!” He exclaimed. “And eggs aren’t bad for the heart. That’s just some nonsense a quack scientist came up with to explain high cholesterol because he couldn’t find the real culprit…Which we all know is sugar.”

The car stopped, the driver opening the partition that separated the front of the car to the back. “We’ve arrived, Sir. Would you like me to drop you off at the door or park in the garage?”

“You can drop us off, please.” He replied. “I’ll page you when we’re ready to leave.”

They walked through the hotel lobby, following the sign that pointed toward the conference room the slideshow would be shown. As they approached the door, he started to feel a powerful sense of pull coming from the room. It was as if there was a magnet on the other side, and he was made of pure metal. He had no clue what forces were responsible for such a strong allure. He stopped in front of the closed door, Elizabeth standing impatiently behind him as he anxiously reached for the door handle. Before he had the chance to turn the handle, the door burst open…and the magnet inside latched on to him with a mighty fix.


	11. Chapter 11

“Could you hand me that box there, please Elio.” Ben said, pointing to a small box of slides on the table to his left.

Elio stood leaned against the wall, staring at the screen that hung in front of the room. It was a blank screen. There were no brilliant works of art or sculptures projected to admire. Yet in his mind, the screen was lit bright with the flashing mirage of green fields and apricot trees. The clear water of a refreshing swimming hole and the cheerful smile on Mafalda’s face as she toiled in the kitchen were just some of the reminders of another lifetime playing out in front of him like a video.

He could hear Ben say something, but he dared not look away from the screen. He dared not blink or even squint his eyes. He was yet to see what he desperately wanted to see. Just one glimpse would suffice. Just one fleeting moment of Oliver laying on the grass by the pool or spiking the volleyball over the net as his sweaty muscles glisten in the suns heat. He wanted to go back to their days of long talks and bicycle rides, and most of all he wanted to go back to their nights of passionate love making and restful embraces.

"Elio, snap out of it." Ben said. "What's going on with you? You've been distant all day. Are you feeling faint? Like at the airport?"

"No." He insisted. "I'm fine. I think I ate too much earlier though. Would you mind if I took a break to use the restroom?"

"Of course not." Ben replied. "I pretty much have everything ready here. Take all the time you need. Just try to get back before we start."

Elio walked away, looking back just long enough to toss Ben a sly smirk and mouth _'Wouldn't miss it, sexy.'_

He didn't really need to use the restroom. The truth was, he was feeling a little anxious. His body felt like it was being dragged towards something, like it knew something his brain hadn't figured out yet. He was just about to the door of the conference room when he stopped abruptly. His heart somehow able to tell his head what was pushing him forward. He suddenly knew without a doubt that just beyond those doors stood his past. One turn of a doorknob and he'd finally find those blue eyes he'd been searching for in every man for five years. Oliver was but feet away. He felt him in every bone, every vein, every hitch of his bated breath. 

His hand shook nervously as he grabbed the knob. He hesitated, suddenly realizing that once the door was opened his past and present would collide in an instant. He swallowed hard, a lump forming in the back of his throat. He wasn't prepared. He hadn't planned it out. How would Oliver react to the surprise that awaited him? Would he greet him with a welcomed smile or an uneasy frown. He had no way of knowing how Oliver felt about him, about their summer together. It had been five years. Surely he'd been with others. The woman he was with at the airport was most likely his wife. What if she was standing outside the door with her arm linked in her husband's arm, eager to enjoy their evening together?

He quickly looked back, glancing at Ben who was loading the slides into the machine. How would Ben feel about the whole thing? It could be more than a little awkward finding out your assistant happens to be your boyfriend's ex-lover.  There were a lot of questions racing through his head, but no answers we popping in there. He stared down at his shaky hand holding the knob. He had but seconds to decide. This was it. He closed his eyes and let his hand decide. His mind was too conflicted. His body would have to take control of his fate. 

He was barely aware of the motion as his hand slowly twisted the handle. It seemed to take forever for the door to begin opening. His heart was in his throat. He was both excited and terrified. The slight squeak of the hinges rippled through his ears and filled his head with echoes, making him feel a little dizzy. Everything seemed in slow motion. It only took a second to open, but to him it felt like a long six weeks in the dog days of summer. 

He froze, his eyes now gazing into Oliver's soft warm stare. He suddenly felt seventeen again. Shy and awkward as he came face to face with the man of his dreams. He could almost hear the sound of cicadas in the distant as he fell deeper into his stare. His entire being flowing through Oliver's pupils deep enough to reach his very soul. Just like the first time they'd met. They had become one all those years ago and nothing, not time, not distance, not even the love of another, had changed that. _'He is Elio. I am Oliver.'_

How long their gaze had held was uncertain. Long enough for the woman behind him to chime in and bring them back to the here and now.

"Excuse me." The woman grumbled, nudging her way in front of Oliver. "My husband and I are here for the seminar. So if you would stop staring at us and take us to our seats that would be lovely."

His face flushed. Had he really stared that long? Had Oliver stared back or was that just in his own fantasy? The woman, _Oliver;s wife_ , was obviously not going to give them the chance at a cheerful lover's reunion. She was already pushing through the door and sliding past him before he even had the chance to react. She grabbed Oliver's hand, who looked to be confused and shaken. 

"Come along dear." She urged. "I sincerely hope they plan on serving hors d'oeuvres at this dreary seminar."

Oliver passed by him, their shoulders lightly grazing as they both did their best to stay composed in the fluster. He wanted desperately to grab Oliver's other hand and tear him away from the woman. He wanted to push her away and declare Oliver to be his and only his. He wanted, _needed_ , to take his Oliver to their waterfall and kiss him even harder and deeper than he'd done before. The mere touch of Oliver's shoulder was enough to make his cock twitch, as if it remembered who it truly belonged to. _'If not now, when?'_

 His chance to take control of the situation, of Oliver, quickly dissipated when he heard a voice from across the room.

"Oliver, I'm glad you were able to make it." Ben said enthusiastically. "Please, come and introduce me to your beautiful wife."

It was disappointing, but a part of him doubted he'd ever have the courage to risk Oliver's rejection. The thought of Oliver laughing at the idea of them revisiting a past he now regretted, killed him. _'He's married to a beautiful woman.'_ He thought to himself as he mindlessly walked out and closed the door behind him. _'...and I'm just a skinny gawky nerd. Don't be a fool to believe he's given you a second thought since that train pulled away._ '

He walked away, each step pulling him further away from the magnet that still tugged on his heart. He knew as long as they were in the same place, the same city, the same country, that tug would continue to wrench at him until it managed to tear his heart right out of his chest. Leaving Italy was an option, although not the most logical one. Angie would hate him for abandoning her, and Ben...How would he even begin to explain that decision to Ben? He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do as he left the hotel, but as soon as the cool night breeze hit his face he felt a little better. He needed to collect himself and come up with a plan. He headed for the nearest bar.

 


	12. Chapter 12

It was a shock, but not a shock. It's not like he hadn't felt Elio's presence from the moment he'd stepped off the plane. It was more astonishment than shock that caught him off guard. He'd toyed with the idea of the perfect storm somehow coming together to unite them, but had brushed it off as an impossible fantasy. Now, just an arms length away, stood the impossible. He caught his eyes, still the same dancing youthful glimmer piercing like a dagger right down to his soul. He had almost forgotten the power those eyes had over him. They drew him instantly, bringing him back to a time when the world revolved around them and only them. 

He might have simply fallen into Elio's arms as if they were still in that dreamy world, as if they had never even left, but Elizabeth's voice brought him back to the present. He felt her hand yanking at his, dragging him away from an encounter that should have been far more ceremonial. There should have been fireworks and music to celebrate the magical miracle. A parade would have been nice. Crowds of people cheering as they waved banners that read _'Together Again'_ or _'Don't Mess It Up This Time'_. Instead there was just a fleeting moment of two hearts passing by, screaming out ' _I've missed you more than you could ever know.'_

In a flash Elio was gone, behind the door that now look like an ominous dungeon gate, impenetrable to keep him from his desire. It took him a moment to recognize Ben walking towards them, then another moment for him to conclude that Elio just might be one of Professor Holton's students. He didn't have time to put that thought all together before Elizabeth nudged his ribs with her elbow, causing him to shoot a questionable look her way.

"Oliver, be a gentlemen and introduce me to your friend." She insisted. 

"Oh, yes, of course." He stammered. "Professor Holton, this is my wife Elizabeth."

"So nice to meet you." Ben chimed with a friendly smile. "I'm glad you decided to accompany Oliver this evening. Are you interested in the arts?"

"I like to look at it." She replied. "But I couldn't tell you the difference between Picasso and Rembrandt. 

"Your appreciation of their work is the important thing." Ben said. "I hate to take Oliver away, but I really could use his help with these slides. There is coffee and water over in the corner. Please, help yourself to whatever you'd like. I believe there are some snacks over there too."

She gave him a fake smile. "Oh, how quaint. I'm looking forward to the seminar...as well as the store bought snacks you've provided."

She walked away as Ben lead Oliver over to the projector. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but the urge to burst out that dungeon gate and chase after Elio was strong. The agonizing notion that he had just missed his one and only chance to say all the things he should have said years ago, was making him nauseous. He clumsily tried to help Ben load the slides, dropping more of them on the floor than in the machine.

"Are you alright?" Ben asked. "You seem a little shaky."

"I'm good." He nodded nervously. "I..I'm always dropping things. I'm a klutz."

_'Actually, professor, I'm a bit shook because I believe one of your students is someone I used to fuck.'_ He thought amusingly. _'He used to suck me off in the attic of his parent's villa. I was kind of hoping you would excuse me so I can track him down and beg for just one more blowjob before I go back to the states and continue living my pathetically dull life I chose over him all those years ago.'Oh, wait, did I mention he's the love of my life? Yeah, your student, the one with the haunting eyes and dark curly locks. I was a fool and walked away. I don't even deserve another minute of his time. He was lucky I didn't stay. I probably would have just messed him up anyways.'_  

With that thought he decided to let it go. Whatever reason fate had for placing them in the same city was not his call. Perhaps it was merely a cruel coincidence to punish him for even considering cheating on his wife. A knife through the heart to remind him that happiness doesn't give second chances. He had squandered the short time he and Elio shared that summer, and there was no turning back time now.

With Elizabeth fidgeting anxiously sitting next to him, he pretended to listen to the seminar Ben presented. The room had filled up with quite a few people. There were the obvious students that had traveled with the professor on this once in a lifetime trip, as well as some local professors and teachers who listened intently to the well-prepared lecture. They all seemed quite impressed with Ben, and had he not been to busy reflecting back five years, he probably would have been impressed too. He felt guilty for neglecting his purpose for being there, but memories of Elio were much more exciting than Impressionism. 

He glanced around from time to time, hoping to catch sight of Elio, but the seminar ended without his return. That was a sure sign that he wanted nothing to do with him. Why would he? He was older and wiser now. With his intelligence and captivating smile he was more than capable of finding someone more suitable. Someone younger and less jaded from wrong choices and lost chances. _'He's smart enough this time to stay away from the uncertainty.'_ He thought as the crowd started thinning out.

The seminar was over, but his duties weren't. "You should take the car back to the villa." He suggested to Elizabeth. "I think I should stay around for a while and help the professor pack things up. I'll take a taxi back when I finish."

To his surprise she didn't argue the plan. "Fine. I'll take the car. I wanted to do a little shopping before the night was over. I'll meet you back there...but please Oliver, don't be too late. We've hardly had any time to ourselves." She grinned coyly. "And the professor isn't the only one who has work for you tonight."

She leaned in, brushing her lips softly against his check before whispering in his ear. "Don't worry. I promise you'll enjoy what I have in store for you."

It took all he had not to show his total disinterest in the very thought of what she had in mine. It had been quite a while since there was much interest in that with her, but he always managed to do the deed to keep her happy. He never once closed his eyes during their love making to pretend it was Elio riding him. He didn't believe she deserved that kind of betrayal. She didn't deserve any kind of betrayal, which made the guilt of his desire for Elio more intense. 

They managed to pick the place up fairly quick. "I really appreciate the help." Ben said as they headed toward the hotel lobby. "It's still early. I was thinking about going for a drink while my students are busy going through some reading material I gave them to prepare them for tomorrow's tour...Would you care to join me?"

His first instinct was to decline politely and jump in a taxi to take him...'Take me where?' He thought. _'Do I go to wife like I really should? Do I take a little time to at least try to locate Milbourn?'_ Neither of those choices appealed to him in the least. _'Do I do what every ounce of me really wants to do? No, searching the city for Elio would be a mistake, and more than likely futile.'_

 He took Ben up on the offer. A strong drink..or two..might be exactly what he needed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone for their comments and let you know that I am planning on updating this story with a chapter every day or so until it is finished. I appreciate your patience in giving me time to set up the plot. I promise there will be something a little special in chapter 14 for you. Thanks for reading!

It was a small bar, mostly full of middle aged men bellied up to the bar to forget about their miserable day at work. He got a few strange looks as he sat down at a stool and ordered a beer. Obviously they didn't think someone of his age could possibly have it as miserable as they did. If they knew the complicated situation he was in, they might think differently. Maybe they'd understand why he needed to escape the real world just as much as they did. 

He considered going back to the hotel, back to the seminar where Ben and his classmates expected him to be. He had no way of knowing what was going on there, what was being said. It was possible that Oliver and Ben were, at that very moment, laughing over the fact they both know what his cum face looks like. They could be comparing notes and joking about his fetish with feet. He winced at the thought of it, but knew in reality that neither men would be so crude. 

Had Oliver mentioned to Ben he knew one of his students? It was more likely that he hadn't. His wife was there, as well as others. Even if his bride knew about his past, Oliver wouldn't bring it up in such a setting. He took a sigh of relief as he chugged at his beer. He was hoping the drink would calm him enough to figure out just how he was going to handle the week to come. The idea of jumping on a plane and running away from the craziness occurred to him, but quickly faded when he realized how many people he'd be letting down. Angie would be furious, and Ben would probably never talk to him again...and he'd fail the course.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself just a brief moment to let the sight of Oliver fill him. The shock and awe of the moment had taken away the serene remembrance and anticipation he had always thought their reunion would feel like, yet somewhere in the ciaos of it all, their eyes had locked long enough to catch a glimpse of what they had, what they shared. It was enough to make his whole body tighten with the long lost desire of reaching out and running his fingers through Oliver's sun lightened blonde hair. His mouth watered at the sight of his lips, wanting nothing more than to taste the damp sweetness that wet them. He didn't need to conger up a memory to feel something. His body and heart were well in the present, and his need and ache for Oliver was just as strong and thirsty as they were in the past.

"You look like a man with an awful lot on his mind for someone so young." A man said, sitting down in the stool next to him. "Is it girl trouble or are your parents pushing you too hard? Either way, that beer ain't gonna make the problem any better." He waved over the bartender. "Give me whiskey and keep it coming." He placed a hundred dollar bill on the bar. 

Elio squirmed, the man's forwardness and cocky demeanor instantly making him uncomfortable. He was American, so more than likely just another tourist. Perhaps the older gentleman was a lonely businessman looking for company. If so, he'd be better off talking with someone his own age. 

"I have no troubles." Elio lied. "My life is peachy. If you're the type who likes to give strangers random advice, the guy sitting at the end of the bar looks like he could use your words of wisdom." 

The man gave an arrogant smirk. "I don't give random advice, young man." He picked up a shot glass of whiskey and downed it. "I give cautioning suggestions. You see, it's not wisdom that people respond to." He downed another shot. "People don't listen to advice unless there's motivation behind it." He placed his hand on Elio's shoulder. "What I've learned, you snot-nosed little brat, is that everyone is motivated by something. It's usually money or power that lures them, but sometimes it takes something more...personal."

Elio brushed the man's hand off his shoulder _. 'Who does this weirdo think he is?'_ He thought. _'This creep needs to back the fuck off.'_

"Back off old man." Elio barked. "I don't know what your problem is but I'm in no mood to be bothered with you."

The man smirked even wider, placing his hand on Elio's shoulder again, leaning in closer. "You don't seem to understand, Mr. Perlman, you are very much going to want to be bothered with me."

Elio froze, confused by the stranger who, for whatever reason, was trying to intimidate him. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

The man chuckled, patting Elio's back before backing away a little. "Don't worry boy. I'm not here to hurt you. On the contrary. I'm here to offer you something that could change your life." He raised an eyebrow. "And from the looks of you right now, you could use a change."

Elio shook his head, even more confused. "Who are you and why would I even care what you have to say? If you're trying to sell me something, I'm not interested." He looked intently at the old man. "And if you're trying to buy something, I don't do ugly wrinkled douchbags so buzz off." 

"I'm well aware of the type you like to 'do', Elio." The man chuckled again. "You definitely have a very particular type. Personally, I prefer brunettes over blondes...not to mention pussy over dick...but to each his own."

Elio's confusion turned quickly to panic. Was this guy playing games with him? Was he simply throwing out guesses and accidentally getting it right? He searched the man's face, wondering if perhaps they had met before, but there was no recognition. He felt something in the pit of his stomach, a sickening rumble that told him this man was somehow going to make this insane day even more wacky.

"Who are you?" Elio asked, his voice a little shaky. "Have we met?"

"No. We've never met." The man replied. "Let's just say I know someone you once were friends with. You might not remember him. He stayed with you and your parents briefly one summer."

_'Yep, this guy is bad news.'_ Elio's brain screamed.

"We had quite a few summer residents. You might want to be more specific." He quipped. Although that rumble in his stomach already knew the man was talking about Oliver.

"Why don't you and me grab that table over in the corner so we can discuss our mutual friend in private." The man suggested. 

He should have refused. He should have listened to the voice in his head begging him to walk away before things could get any more complicated than they already were. Instead, he followed the older man to the table and, in disbelief and horror, listened to what he had to say.

_'Jack Bradford told a torrid tale of two young lovers. To hear him narrate that summer, one would conclude that Oliver and Elio's time together was nothing more than an abomination of sinful lust full of endless pornographic fornication. There was no mention of the countless hours they'd spent just talking. Not a word about their true friendship and admiration. According to Oliver's father-in-law, Oliver was a sex addict who seduced a horny teen into doing the unthinkable. By the time the old man finished his sorted story, Elio's blood was boiling with anger and disgust. Not only over the realization that their precious time together had been spied upon by a ruthless asshole, but also the fact that the asshole had the audacity to belittle what they'd shared, reducing it down to a fuck fest between evildoers._

_He wanted to punch the guy square in the nose and tell him to never speak Oliver's name again. He wanted to drag him to the floor of the bar and kick him until he pissed himself and cried. He would have done just that, had the man not quickly laid out a motivation not to. As horrified as he was to learn Jack Bradford knew such intimate things about him, about Oliver, the horror only magnified as the man explained why he was there. It took Elio a while to really wrap his head around what the man wanted from him, and exactly what was at stake if he didn't comply. It was a tangled web of secrets and lies that, as the man walked out of the bar and into a fancy BMW, left Elio speechless and very, very worried.'_

 


	14. Chapter 14

The walk to the nearest bar was quiet and somewhat awkward. Neither man realized the reason was their distraction for the same person. Both were busy wondering where Elio might be. Ben was concerned. He contemplated sending out Angie and the others to search for him, but decided that might be even more problematic. He'd probably end up with more than just one missing student if he let them loose. His concern was growing, and if Elio wasn't at the hotel when he returned, he might have to call the local police. He tried to shake off any worries, convincing himself that Elio simply didn't want to be bothered with the seminar.

Oliver's thoughts were scattered. He attempted to focus on the week ahead assisting Ben, but his mind was everywhere. Elizabeth waiting for him back at the villa. His father-in-law's insane request. His son, who was so far away and eager for their return. Even the thought of James couldn't push away the image of Elio's piercing eyes glistening with the overwhelming ray of nostalgic bliss. It might not have been the perfect moment for their souls to reconnect, but nothing, not Elizabeth, not the professor, not even Jack Bradford, held power over what they felt for each other. Not now...Not ever.

"Have you ever been to Italy before?" Ben asked, hoping to make small talk to break their silence.

"I have." Oliver replied. "I spent some time here years ago. It really is a beautiful place."

"Were you here, in Milan?" 

"Very briefly. I visited a place not far from here called Bergamo. It's smaller with much more scenery. You should go there while you're here. It's got a wonderful waterfall." Oliver was surprised to find himself being so open with the guy. "There's a place up north that's even more spectacular. It's a little place called Crema. The food there is amazing, and the people are so friendly and lively. I highly recommend that place."

Ben looked amused. "I've heard of that place." He said. "My boy...a friend of mine has a place there. He's constantly raving about it."

"Really?" Oliver asked. "What's his name? Maybe I've met him."

"Actually, he's one of my students. He lives in the states but his parents own a villa somewhere around Crema. His name is Elio...Elio Perlman."

This wasn't a shock to Oliver. He knew who Ben was referring to at the start. He was shocked, however, at how strange it felt to hear him say that name. It felt as if he'd spoken some secret language that only a few in the world could know. Only those with special connections were allowed to speak its dialect. Obviously Ben was familiar with the lingo and, if Oliver's sudden gut feeling was correct, had first hand knowledge of it's meaning. 

An overwhelming sense of jealousy swept through him. He looked at the man more closely. Could there be more to this than expected. Could Ben and Elio actually have something more than your average teacher-student relationship? He wanted to dismiss the idea immediately, but that gut feeling wouldn't let him. It was also that gut feeling that lead him to decide to lie to the professor.

"That name's not familiar." He choked out. "How long have you known him?"

"Several months. He's a good student most of the time." Ben replied.

"I haven't been introduced to any of your students yet." Oliver added. "Will I be meeting them tomorrow on the tour?"

Ben opened the door to the bar, waving for Oliver to walk in first. "Yes, of course. They're a good group of students. Very intelligent and eager to learn."

"I'm sure they are." Oliver said, stopping in his tracks the minute he walked through the door.

He felt him before he saw him. That magnetic pull tightening every muscle in his body, forcing him to turn left when he intended on turning right. He could only see the dark curls over the partition that separated the bar from the sitting area of the place, but he had no doubt it was him. He stopped short, causing Ben to lightly bump into him from behind. 

"Whoa." Ben exclaimed, apologizing for the bump. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect you to stop. Is something wrong?"

He turned to face Ben, who had obviously not seen their common 'friend' sitting across the room. _'This could go very bad.'_ He thought to himself. _'Abort! Abort!'_. He saw a restroom sign over Ben's shoulder, giving him a quick escape.

"I..I need to use the bathroom." Oliver stammered. "Go on without me. I'll catch up with you later."

"Okay." Ben said, a little confused. "I'll be at the bar when you're done. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes. Yes." Oliver replied as he pushed around him slightly. "I..I mean my stomach is a little off, so I'm not sure if that drink would be wise."

Ben nodded. "Well, if it gets any better, come and join me."

Oliver nodded back before rushing off to the restroom. Why he hadn't simply left the bar altogether eluded him. _'That would have made a lot more sense, idiot.'_ He thought as he closed the stall door and locked it. He took a deep breath, deciding to sit down and wait until Elio left. He'd know when that happened because the pull on his chest would weaken. _'Of all the bars in this city, he had to be at this one.'_   He chuckled quietly. _'If there's any fairness in this crazy situation, there will be a moment, just one brief span when I can walk up to him, wrap my arms around him, and tell him there hasn't been a single day since they parted at that train station I haven't thought about him. To kiss him on the forehead and say 'I remember everything, and I want to make so many more memories with you.'_

He sat quietly for what seemed like forever. A few men came and left as he patiently waited for the feel of Elio to go away. To his chagrin the feeling only strengthen with each minute that passed. He heard the light footsteps of someone outside his stall. He knew by the pounding in his chest that either Elio stood on the other side of door, he was truly having a heart attack and needed medical attention.

He heard whistling. A familiar tune that made the hair on his neck stand straight. It was soft and slow, just like the first time Elio had played it on his guitar that warm day while he lay on the grass reading. The whistling echoed off the bathroom walls, making it sound even more brilliant. He closed his eyes for just a second, letting the notes vibrate through him and ease his panic. He reached out and place a hand on the door, knowing that with one click of the lock he could very well have the chance to embrace the man he loves once again. He felt the rush of incredible excitement and anticipation as his fingers slid to the lock...and unlatched the barrier that was put between them so many years ago.

The whistling stopped. Everything around them stopped, frozen time given only to true love's demand. Time for them to take in the full of each other's presence without worry of interruption. First breath, eyes lock...Second breath, hands reach out...Third breath, fingers intertwine...Fourth breath, bodies slowly collide...Fifth breath...

No words were spoken. None were needed. The faint sound of the stall door closing behind them. The muffled sounds of patrons in the distant. They were oblivious to it all as their faces drew closer, their fifth and bated breath warmly skimming across their flushed cheeks. The walls turned to trees, the drip from the faucet turned to the gentle flow of water, the cold tile floors turned to a lavish field of green grass. They were transported back, back to that berm where it all began. 

First kisses are special, but reunion kisses, they have an even more powerful purpose. They can seal any doubt of lost love's true intention, or prove that love to be a one chance deal. As their lips softly pressed together, all doubt was washed away with instant passion and endless desire. They pressed harder, both letting out a soft gasp of surprise at how quickly their need for more filled them. Oliver's hand slid over Elio's shoulder, his fingers cradling the back of Elio's neck as he tilted his head to press even more firmly. His mind was spinning, almost causing him to lose balance as he nudged Elio against the door. He let out another soft gasp as he parted his lips slightly, hoping Elio would respond in same.

Elio opened his eyes briefly, just long enough to see that Oliver's face was as silky and smooth as he'd remembered. He felt Oliver's lips part, the damp warmth spread over his lips sweet butter. Oh, how he'd missed that taste. It was like coming home and feeling safe and comfortable once again. He opened his mouth wider, letting his tongue lightly lick across Oliver's bottom lip. He knew Oliver always liked when he did that, and without hesitation, Oliver rolled his tongue across Elio's upper lip before grasping the back of his neck a bit tighter and driving his tongue all the way in. Elio couldn't help but let out a short moan, his cock already becoming hard. He ran his hands up Oliver's waist, bringing them around to his back to pull him in closer.

Oliver shivered at the sound of Elio's moan. It was always such a turn on to hear the low whine of his pleasure. Always careful not to be too loud and be heard by nosy ears. He was glad Elio was drawing them closer. He wanted to be close. He wanted to be so close they'd become one. He was also glad that, when rubbing against him, their mutually hard cocks slid along side each other under their clothing. It was as if, like their hearts, their cocks were magnetized as well. It felt good. No, it felt so much better than good.

Oliver's mouth left Elio's lips, traveling down his neck leaving a trail of wet kisses. He nibbled gently just below the adam's apple, as he pressed himself harder against Elio's groin. This time it was him who whined at the overwhelming pleasure. It took his breath away, forcing him to pull back slightly and stop the kissing. It was all so surreal, being this close again. It was everything and more than he could have ever imagined was possible after all of the years apart. Where it might go from there was a huge question mark, but at that moment, in that pretend berm, they were one again.

Elio brushed his mouth to Oliver's ear and did what he promised himself he would do if the chance ever arose. He whispered softly, but clear and certain..."I love you, Elio."

Without missing a beat, the words rang out with long-awaited release..."I love you, Oliver."

 

 

 

  


	15. Chapter 15

Elio rest his head on Oliver's shoulder, wrapping his arms as tight around him as possible. He wasn't going to let go this time. He wasn't going to let the only person in this horrible world walk away again. If Oliver tried to escape his grasp, he'd stop at nothing to make sure this time the train pulled away without taking his future with it. He wouldn't wimp out and simply give a nod of acceptance as the love of his life rode off into the sunset. He'd beg and plead if needed. He'd drop to his knees and guilt Oliver into staying in his life forever. He'd offer him the moon and the stars for just his eternal friendship. He'd stay in the shadows and only make an appearance when summoned. Anything it took to never lose him again.

Oliver tried to pull back slightly, only to feel Elio's grip desperately hold on. He understood that desperation, he would have liked nothing more than to stay in that grasp forever. However, the footsteps of the people walking in and out of the restroom reminded him they weren't in their haven. They weren't at the berm or the swimming hole. They weren't cuddled in the safety of Mr. Perlman's attic. He freed his arms enough to place both hands on Elio's cheeks, their eyes once again meeting with fulfillment and gratification. 

"We can't stay in here forever." Oliver whispered. "You have no idea how much I've missed you. I have no words to tell you how happy I am to see you." He rubbed his thumbs along Elio's jawline, holding back his desire to kiss him again. "I never for one minute forgot you." His breath hitched as a lump formed in his throat and tears filled his eyes. "My heart broke the second I got on that train. It shattered into a million pieces and blew out the window. It stayed here, in Italy, hoping you'd come back and put it back together."

Elio reached up, wiping away a stay tear that ran down Oliver's cheek. His words touched him so deeply he was nearly speechless. He hadn't expected such an emotional confession. The Oliver he remembered would have just smiled and said 'later' as he walked out of his life yet again. He felt the tears fill his own eyes as he struggled to say something...anything.

"I...I can't. I can't believe you're really here." Elio stammered. "I've missed you too. I mean, I've really really missed you."

Elio's mind went wild. _'For fuck sake is that all you got? You've ached for this man for five years and the best you can do is a lame 'I missed you'? He's poring his heart out and you sound like you're greeting your least favorite relative. Get it together before you blow this chance to...to do what exactly?'_  

Oliver giggle lightly, noticing Elio's nervousness. "I'm really here, Elio. I can only hope you're as glad to see me as I am you. I know this is a bit of a shock for both of us. Unfortunately, things are even more complicated now than they were when we first met. I'm not sure how to even deal with this. I..I'm not the same man I used to be. I have.." He hesitated a moment. "I have responsibilities now."

Elio knew what he was referring to. He sighed, the real world crashing in on their reunion a little quicker than he'd hoped. "I know, Oliver." He said, leaving his gaze to look away from the emotion. "I know you're married and have a life you've built for yourself. I'm not going to lie and pretend that doesn't disappoint me, but if you're happy, I would never want to impose on that...I am glad to see you again, and kissing you again was." A small grin formed as he spoke. "It was just like I remembered. No one has been able to come close to filling a single kiss with as much passion and tenderness as you. Your lips are unforgettable."

Oliver grinned back, reluctantly stepping back and out of their embrace. "I only give as good as I get." He joked. "And if I remember correctly, which I'm sure I do, your lips were quite good at a lot of things as well."

Elio blushed. Oliver still had a way of making him feel like an inexperienced young teenager with a crush. It felt good to revisit those old pangs of innocence. Only Oliver had the power to arouse him like it was the first time he'd ever even talked to a hot guy, much less kissed one. The younger him would have awkwardly punched him in the arm and giggle through the conversation. The older him decided to play it differently.

"You're a tease, Oliver." He smiled. "Those days are long gone, but I must admit, I wouldn't mind repeating them."

 _'Oop there it is. It's out there in the universe just floating in the air like a balloon full of fear of rejection and inappropriate propositions. Yep, I just offered myself up to a married man while the man I'm sleeping with is probably sitting alone at the bar with a tall glass of regret in his hand. This should be the scene where the wife rushes in and shoots me at point blank range for whoring with her man. I'd deserve it.'_ Elio suddenly panicked. _'This isn't right! I love you, Oliver...I want and need you with every breath I take...but this isn't right!_ ' 

"I mean. I;m sorry." Elio turned away, fumbling with the door latch before swinging it open. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm a horrible person."

Oliver quickly grabbed his arm, turning him around to face him again. "You're not a horrible person." He shifted nervously on his feet, looking around to make sure no one was around to hear. "If you are, then so am I...because I wouldn't mind a repeat either. In fact, there's nothing I want more."

Elio sighed in relief. _'At least I'm not alone with my impure thoughts. That's somewhat comforting, but neither of should be having these thoughts..and we certainly shouldn't, wouldn't act on them.'_

"So what do you suggest we do then?" Elio asked. "You're not a cheater and neither am I. Should you divorce your wife? Should I dump my boyfriend? That's not something you do just because you run into an ex lover from years ago. What we might want, and what we can actually have are two very different things. We can't let the feelings we have for each other fool us into thinking this, you and me, is even remotely possible."

Oliver starred at him for a minute, coming to terms with everything he said. "You're right." He mumbled sadly. "I wish things were different, but you're right."

Elio looked into his sad eyes. It killed him to see the pain darkened those beautiful blue eyes. He looked down at the floor, unable to bear another second of that pain. "I don't know if you're totally aware of this, but the man your assisting is my professor...and my lover. It's going to be difficult to get through the week if we continuously have to see each other."

 _'Boyfriend?'_ Oliver let that sink in. He had some suspicion, but hearing Elio say it out loud made his stomach turn. The week was going to be a lot more than just difficult..It was going to be down right torture. He considered quitting on the professor, but felt guilty about abandoning him without a possible replacement. 

"I think we're both mature enough to handle this." Oliver suggested. "Let's just see how it goes. If it gets to be too much, I'll figure out a way to back out."

Elio nodded. "Okay yeah, that sounds like a good idea." He cleared his throat, not sure how to end the encounter without walking away with his prize. He'd lost what he thought he'd found, and it stung even deeper than the first time. He felt like an absolute fool for ever believing in happily ever after with someone who belonged to someone else. With that fantasy now flushed away, he had no clue what to look forward to in the future. He slowly walked out of the restroom and straight out of the bar without Ben ever knowing he was there. He headed back to the hotel with a heavy heart...and an address in his pocket that Jack Bradford had given him.  

 


	16. Chapter 16

Jack Bradford sat in the back seat quietly as his driver forged through the heavy city traffic towards the villa he had rented for the week. It was only a minute away from the villa his daughter and no-good son-in-law were staying in. He was keeping close tabs on Oliver. His right hand man Tommy Kellar was there to do most of the tracking of Oliver's movements, while he kept in close contact with the private investigator he'd hired to follow the young Elio around. So far, things seemed to be staying on schedule with no obvious sign of his plan going askew. 

He wasn't happy to have to go to such lengths to solve a problem that should have been taken care of years ago. He'd let the issue remain unattended in hopes it would simply get forgotten and never rear it's ugly head. He had actually started to believe his hope was being fulfilled. So many years had gone by without a hint that it would resurface at the most inopportune time. Not that ANY time would have been pleasant, but now, as he was thinking seriously about running for Governor, made taking care of the matter imperative.

He was concerned about involving Oliver in the situation. Not because it could possibly get his daughter's husband arrested, or even worse. That would be acceptable, even wanted, collateral damage. His concern laid in Oliver's intelligence. For things to go right, he needed Oliver to be ignorant to what was truly going on. There was very little room for error in his plan, and Oliver's keen intuition could throw a wrench into the mix. 

He wasn't as concerned with Elio. The young man's participation was limited, and after their little chat in the bar, he felt confident Elio would play his part. He almost felt sorry for the lad. He had figured the boy would probably want to protect himself, but the look on his face as they chatted made it clear he would go to great lengths to protect his first love. That was an unexpected bonus that put Jack's mind at ease. 

He remembered the first time he saw the pictures of Elio Perlman that Tommy had sent to him five years ago. He looked young, but his eyes showed an old soul. It had bewildered him a bit that, with Oliver's looks and stature, he hadn't chosen someone more seasoned and muscular to get off on. However, Elio's boyish charm combined with his matured intellect was probably just what Oliver's ego was looking for. 

He had decided to rid himself and his daughter of Oliver long before Oliver had ever even stepped foot in Italy all those years ago. Elizabeth had introduced him to her new 'boyfriend' shortly after the two had started seeing each other. He wanted to make Elizabeth happy. He wanted to accept whoever she chose to date, to love, to marry. He had actually found a young man he deemed suitable to fill that position. A colleagues son who was well on his way to becoming a lawyer. It might have happened had Oliver not flashed his pearly whites and caught her attention first. He was disappointed from the start, and as they continued to date, he became more and more disillusioned with the coupling. 

When he heard that Oliver was going abroad to work on his book, he was thrilled. He felt with time apart and time spent with other suitors, his daughter would forget Oliver and move on. He couldn't trust that to simply happen. He decided he needed to find a way to force Oliver out of his daughter's life for good. He had many idea's. He considered quite a few unsavory schemes to pin on the unsuspected fool, but ultimately decided to have him followed abroad to see if he wouldn't give him the ammunition he needed. 

Catching Oliver cheating was something he'd hoped would happen. Surely a man like him would be well received by the ladies of Italy. He wasn't sure if Oliver would give in to any of their advances, but all that was really needed was evidence that appeared as if he had. Tommy did a good job tailing the tall American that stuck out like a sore thumb. His first report to Jack contained suspicion of an affair with a lovely young Italian girl named Chiara. He was pleased to see the pictures of the two dancing crotch to crotch at a night club. At the very least, it would be enough for Elizabeth to confront him and tell him to take a hike.

He wasn't expecting the second report Tommy sent. When he opened the envelope and saw the damning photos of Oliver's even more steamy and telling affair, he immediately head out to show his daughter just how dastardly her boyfriend could be. He stopped himself, realizing he might actually be able to use the information for a better purpose. Cheating was one thing, but what Oliver was spending his summer doing was something considered to be more than just immoral. Cheating could be forgiven by many, but homosexuality...that was beyond the scope of understanding. It was definitely something no man would ever want revealed.  

He allowed Elizabeth to marry Oliver only for the purpose to use him whenever needed. Blackmail is a very powerful tool, and having such juicy evidence against Oliver made him the perfect patsy. He enjoyed watching Oliver jump through hoops to keep his indiscretion hidden, not only from his wife, but from the community that held him in such high esteem. He would have gladly continued to manipulate the situation, but recent events involving his own past mistakes called for drastic measures. That required throwing Oliver to the wolves and ridding his family of the oaf once and for all. 

It didn't take much effort to put things in motion. A little digging on Tommy's part to locate Oliver's summer tryst and the rest fell into place. A simple, yet sizable donation to the university Elio was attending was sufficient to give him power of suggestion over the board and faculty. There was no opposition from the art's professor to arrange a trip to beautiful Italy when counsel approached him with the idea. The funds were there, and Benjamin Holton had eager pupils to join him on the journey...including Elio Perlman. An off-the-cuff mention that perhaps the good professor could use an assistant was enough to open a way into including Oliver and put everyone where he wanted, when he wanted. 

He cursed the day he ever met James Milbourn. Had he known the trouble that would follow, he never would have befriended the ruthless and cunning law student while they both attended the same college. He should have avoided the fraternity scene altogether. He should have listened to his father and stayed away from the shady dealings and underhanded tactics that James and his kind were known for. The regrets of his past were catching up with him, and now he was in Italy, forced to be even more unmerciful than his old friend could ever be.

 

 


End file.
